Scars of the Future
by BraellyraLeatherleaf
Summary: LOTRHP Crossover. Set after Book 5. The Fellowship joins the Order in the war against Voldemort. No Slash. Mild swearing.
1. New Calling, Same Pain

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

Chapter One: New Calling, Same Pain

It had been 25 years since Frodo Baggins had returned to the Shire, and all was quiet and as it should be. Bag End was full of Sam and Rosie's thirteen children, the youngest being Tolman at two years old; the "terrible twos" as they had been referred, and there was rarely a quiet moment in the hole.

Yet, despite the laughing children and cheerful atmosphere, a shadow often loomed over Bag End. Frodo, though the Ring had long ago been destroyed, was sometimes still haunted by nightmarish memories of the Quest, and twice a year his wounds caused him great pain.

The choice to leave for Valinor had been lain before him, but the chance had come and gone. Upon seeing Sam's tear-stained face he knew he could not leave. He was surprised also, that Gandalf had also remained in Middle-Earth, and thought it was never explained why, Frodo wondered if the wizard had felt what he had.

For the last two and a half decades Frodo had lived, for the most part, happily. He had learned to live, albeit uncomfortably, with the fear and the darkness and the pain, but he was sure he had made the right decision in staying. He had been able to watch Sam's family blossom and thrive, much like the _Mallorn_ tree in the party field. He had been there when Sam had been elected mayor of Hobbit on (all three times), and had helped with the celebrating afterwards. Best of all, he had been blessed with the honor of being named godfather of all of Sam and Rosie's children. He had accepted this gladly, and spent much time with the young lads and lasses.

On a bright day sometime in mid-May, when Elanor and Frodo-lad had taken their siblings to the party field, (so as to keep them out from under the feet of their mother, who was busy cleaning the hole, as she did thoroughly every few months or so), and Frodo was helping Sam in the garden (which basically meant talking with his friend, for he was useless at gardening), who should arrive but Gandalf? Frodo had glanced up by chance to see the wizard at the gate, and had cried out in joy and surprise before rushing to the gate and embracing Gandalf as he kneeled to the hobbit's height.

"Gandalf!" he laughed, happily. "What a pleasant surprise, we haven't seen you since last fall."

The old wizard chuckled. "Indeed, my dear hobbit, it had been long, but come. My visit is not without purpose, and there are matters we must discuss."

Frodo only nodded and smiled, not anticipating much, then led Gandalf up the garden path towards Bag End's round, green door. Samwise opened it for them, himself equally happy with Gandalf's unexpected (of course!) visit.

"Good morning, Samwise." he said, "I hope I find you well?"

Sam grinned. "Never been better in me whole life Mr. Gandalf sir, if you take my meanin'."

"That I do Samwise, now, join us for tea, this also may concern you."

Frodo and Gandalf seated themselves at the kitchen table, while Sam busied himself with preparing tea. Even though he was the mayor, and even though Frodo had told him countless times his servitude was not necessary, Sam still insisted on serving his master, and Frodo could do nothing but comply.

Presently, the kettle sang and Sam removed it, and poured each of them a cup and took a seat next to Frodo.

"Well, Gandalf, what trouble have you been getting yourself into lately?" Frodo asked.

The wizard set down his tea and gazed at the hobbits seriously.

"I am glad that you have asked that question Frodo, for it brings us to what I have come to tell you." he said.

The tone of Gandalf's voice and the manner in which he spoke caused the two hobbits to exchange glances, and then look at the wizard with silent question, almost dreading the answers.

Gandalf crossed his legs and took another small sip of tea.

"Early this spring," he began, "I was meditating in Minas Tirith, when somehow or other my mind saw far into the future. Normally, I would have only allowed myself glimpses, but I was intrigued by what I saw, and allowed myself to be drawn into the vision. It was foolish of me to do so, for the mind and the body can become permanently separated, but I was dangerously inquisitive.

"However, this was not the case, and by some strange chance both my mind and body were taken to the vision I was seeing. I was far into the future, and to my great surprise found I had traveled through time.

"The entire tale is a long and very complex one, but because we have not the time, I will simply summarize it.

"After studying and understanding time travel, I was able to move easily from here to the forthcoming. Sometime within this process, I became acquainted with a future descendant, a wizard by the name of Albus Dumbledore. He had read about our Middle-Earth, and its histories, and therefore knows all about our world and us. The tale of the Ringbearer is also not unknown to him.

"There is much that was spoken of between us, and I have come to know this world in thousands of years to come. The elves as we know them are gone, wizards and men know hardly anything of one another, (for wizards, my dear hobbits, to men at least, exist only in stories), hobbits are never seen, and whether they even exist anymore none are sure. All other creatures have evolved, save the dwarves, which have never changed."

He studied the hobbit's confused and shocked expression, and then continued before they could speak.

"What concerns me the most, is that there is war. The future we have fought and suffered for to protect is now under the threat of a new darkness. A new Dark Lord has risen. They seek aid in their dark times, and I have offered my assistance, and the assistance of those who will join me, to Albus Dumbledore and his army. I have gathered the rest of our Fellowship, and they have all consented. Your cousins Meriadoc and Peregrin I have already spoken to and have already agreed to come. I ask you now, Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee, if you will also join once again in the battle against evil."

Frodo and Sam sat silently, letting all they had learned sink in. Sam turned to his master, awaiting his answer before making his own decision. Frodo stared at the wooden table, memories of the Quest beginning to flood his mind. Visions of the Ring, the Eye, the Nazgul, Shelob, Moria, the Orcs at Cirith Ungol, and the overall pain and suffering both his mind and body and endured, clouding his thoughts. Another war? A new Dark Lord? Was it his task to destroy yet another evil? His will may be strong, but he didn't think he could bear another such burden.

"Mr. Frodo? Are you alright?"

Frodo felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Sam's concerned face. It was then that he realized he was trembling, and he hastily wiped a sleeve across his eyes.

"I'm…fine, Sam," he said, and then looked at Gandalf.

"What must we do, Gandalf?" he questioned the wizard.

The wizard caught the note of fear in the hobbit's voice, and immediately regretted asking him. He knew, as they all did, that Frodo had already suffered through much, he hated to involve him in another war.

"Forgive me, Frodo. It will not be like it was before," he said. "Your task will not be to rid the world of a new evil, but rather to offer guidance to one who is experiencing something of what you once did."

Frodo sighed. "So this is the task I felt I still had left to fulfill when I did not leave with Bilbo."

Gandalf nodded. "I too had felt that I was still needed, and that is the reason I also remained on these shores."

Sam had a look of confusion on his face. "You stayed because you thought you had to, sir? I'd thought you'd only wanted to."

"I did want to stay, Sam, but I had felt that my tasks were not yet complete. It was as if something was calling to me, telling me to remain where I was." Frodo said, and then turned to Gandalf. "I must admit, though, I do not desire another adventure, but if it is indeed the will of the Valar, and if you would have me do it, I will."

The old wizard nodded. "What I ask of you Frodo," he said, "is to do nothing more than you can bear. I do not ask you to do anything you feel you cannot overcome, and I certainly do not wish to trouble you with burdens you feel you cannot carry."

Frodo thought another moment, nodded sincerely, and said, "I will go, Gandalf."

"And me," said Sam, looking first to Gandalf and then to Frodo, "You know I wouldn't let you go alone, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo smiled. "I know, Sam, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Very well," Gandalf said, "Leave here as soon as you can for Gondor. Meriadoc and Peregrin will join you, but time is important, and none can be wasted, so make haste!"

"Will you be staying awhile, Gandalf?" Frodo asked.

The wizard shook his head. "No, my dear hobbit, I am afraid I cannot. I must return to Albus and inform him of our plans."

He stood abruptly and left, as quickly as he had arrived, and the only trace of him was the empty teacup on the table.

Frodo sighed, and set his head in his hands. _What have I done now? _He thought. _What have I gotten us into this time?_

Rosie walked in at that moment, carrying and armful of clean towels. She paused when she saw Frodo and Sam, feeling a sense of unease. Sam looked up, something she couldn't quite read written on his face. "What?" she asked. "What is it?"

TBC

A/N: Please be so kind as to leave a reveiw, and remember, any review you leave is also for Animagus-Spirit!


	2. Preceding Departure

Scars of the Future 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

To my reviewers:

Animagus-Spirit-Thanks for the review, but I still think you give me way too much credit than you give yourself. Here's the next chapter, even though you've already read it…

Arwentheelf-Constructive criticism is always welcome. You won't have to wait too long for some action, but I agree that this fic does start out rather slowly. Stay with me!

Estel-rules- Sorry if I disappoint you, but this fic will be shipless. It was originally going to be some sort of romance, but it didn't fit the storyline so it was cut….here's the next bit!

Infallallthingsaremadesplended-Glad you like it, keep reading!

Almadynis-Here's the next chapter. I'll try to keep the intervals between chapters relatively short, but no promises here…lol.

Inwe Telemnar-Hannon Le! Thanks as always for beta-ing!

Chapter 2: Preceding Departure

Sam kissed his wife lovingly. "We'll be back before you know we've left," he said, trying to make the situation seem as natural as if they were only going to Buckland.

Rose smiled through her tears. "Try to, at least, and be careful, Sam. Don't do anything _too_ stout."

He chuckled slightly. "Aye, dear, but that's not me job anyway." He looked at Frodo meaningfully.

Frodo rolled his eyes, and pecked Rosie on the cheek. "I will look after him, Rose, you needn't worry."

She laughed. "Somethin' tells me it'll be the other way around, Mr. Frodo."

They stood outside the gate at Bag End in the early morning, five days after Gandalf had come, ready to depart. Presently, Sam kissed each of his children, telling them all to mind their mother and help her look after things. He kissed Rose again, then mounted his pony (Bill the 3rd) alongside Frodo and rode off down the lane, both hobbits turning to wave when they crested a small hill.

Sam sighed; to Frodo, it held a note of sadness.

"I did not ask you to come with me, Sam. You could go back and stay with your family."

Sam shook his head quickly. "No, sir," he said firmly. "There's nothin' that's going to keep me from bein' with you when you might need me. I don't like the ring of this 'future', and this talk of a new Dark Lord." He glanced quickly at Frodo. "No, Mr. Frodo, beggin' your pardon, but it doesn't sound quite right to me."

Frodo nodded. "I know, Sam, I feel somewhat the same way. I am glad you're with me, though…"

"What?"

"Nothing, Sam." He looked away, and they continued in silence.

"So, what do you suppose the Shire looks like in this future?"

"How do we even know there will still be a Shire, Pip?"

"Why shouldn't there be, Merry? I mean, maybe it will be much different, but it'll still be here, right?"

"I suppose so."

"I mean, if there's no - Frodo!"

Merry and Pippin both stood up from their positions on the garden bench outside of Brandy Hall, and hurriedly went to greet their cousin and his gardener.

"Hello, Frodo! Sam! Good to see both of you!" Merry said.

"And you both as well!" said Frodo, dismounting from his pony and embracing his cousins.

Sam took the reins of both ponies. "Hullo, Mr. Merry, Mr. Pippin."

"Here, Sam, let me take care of the ponies, you and Frodo go inside with Pippin and have some breakfast." Merry offered, and Sam complied.

Breakfast was delicious; the table was laden with everything from toast to sausages to eggs, and there was plenty to go around. They had been joined by Estella and Diamond, whom they had the pleasure to thank for the glorious meal.

The four hobbits sat in the large parlor afterwards, smoking and discussing Gandalf's strange news.

"I think it will be rather interesting, really," Pippin was saying, "to see what changes will have happened long after we're gone."

"Of course it will be _interesting_," Merry put in, "but that doesn't mean it won't be dangerous."

Frodo nodded. "Another war…I truly do not like to think that again we shall be involved in this, but I also do not think Gandalf would ask us to do something if it were to be anything like before. However, I too think it would be quite exciting to travel through time, to see what the world has become."

"Aye," Sam added, "I trust Mr. Gandalf, but it still doesn't fit right with me. I'm willin' to go though."

"So, when should we leave?" Merry questioned.

"Gandalf said to leave as soon as possible. If we do not leave tomorrow, then we should leave the day after." Frodo said.

"Day after tomorrow sounds good, that gives us a day to prepare and alert the family." Merry said.

"Right," Pippin said, "that's it then."

They spent the next few days packing and readying to leave on another long journey. They hoped to reach Gondor by the end of June to the beginning of July at the latest, if nothing hindered them, that is.

The night before they were to leave, Frodo tossed and turned in a troubled sleep. Confusing dreams plagued him; dreams he could not remember whenever they caused him to awaken. They were like nothing he had dreamt before; no memories of the Quest, or anything similar. They disturbed and frightened him, and the next morning the dark circles under his eyes made it obvious that he had not slept well, something that was not lost on Sam, though he did not address it.

After a hearty breakfast and several farewells, they set off again. The journey went smoothly, and except for a near run-in with a pack of hungry wolves, they made it to Minas Tirith at a late hour but nonetheless on schedule and nearly unscathed.

Greetings were joyful, the food was delicious, and that night, each hobbit slept soundly. The next morning, they met the rest of the Fellowship on the Citadel, and gathered in a room off of the Hall. Gandalf spoke first.

"Now that we are all here," he began, "more can be explained." He paused, momentarily, then began again. "The Dark Lord, Voldemort, rose back to power in June of last year. The Ministry of Magic has only recently discovered his return to power, though others knew before them. The Order of the Phoenix is the secret society fighting against Voldemort in any way possible, and it is this that is headed by Albus Dumbledore himself. I am well acquainted with several of its other members. The headquarters of the Order is where we will be accommodated, and I ask you all to read this and commit it to memory."

From his cloak he pulled a small piece of paper, and handed it to Aragorn, who read it, and then proceeded to pass it to the others gathered there.

Pippin read it, then furrowed his brow, and read it again. Still puzzled, he read it out loud:

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."

He looked up. "Couldn't you just tell us this?"

Gandalf shook his head. "No, Peregrin Took, I could not. To find the headquarters of the Order, one must be told the location by Dumbledore." He indicated the paper. "That is it, written in his own hand."

"Oh." Pippin nodded in understanding.

"Gandalf, you said Voldemort rose _back_ to power?"

"Yes, Meriadoc, fifteen years ago he was defeated, but he survived. Since then he tried many ways to rise again, and finally, after failing many times, he succeeded."

"The one you wish me to offer guidance to, this all has something to do with him," Frodo knowingly stated.

"Yes, my dear hobbit, it does. Harry Potter was Voldemort's downfall fifteen years ago, and will be his downfall again. Voldemort killed both of Harry's parents when he was only a year old, but somehow failed to kill Harry, and instead, he himself was defeated, though his spirit lived on, until finally he returned to power," Gandalf explained.

"What do you mean," said Pippin, "his downfall _again?_"

The wizard nodded solemnly. "It is Harry's fate. There was a prophecy made concerning him and the Dark Lord, which is the reason he tried to kill Harry in the first place. The night Voldemort attempted this, he transferred part of himself to the boy, and since they have had a connection. From this attack Harry bears a scar shaped like a bolt of lightning on his forehead, and also his dark destiny. For, my friends, neither can live while the other survives. Harry himself has recently come to discover this, and it is a burden he now bears. That ," and here he paused and looked directly at Frodo, "and the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. Your guidance Frodo, is needed. In return, however, he will grant you some of his. Together, you can help each other escape from your own darkness."

Frodo looked away, and avoided making eye contact with any of the other Fellowship members.

"Gandalf," Aragorn spoke this time, "what are we to expect when we arrive? What changes will have occurred?"

"I have explained much of it already, to each of you separately as I have had the chance. What is most important though, is that only those with magical abilities know wizards exist anymore. Wizards have evolved, they are not in any way what you see before you. They have no staffs, only wands, small talismans made of wood that they used to cast spells. Their magic is different than my own, where mine is limited in ways that theirs is not. They wear robes and cloaks, though, not always, so as not to arouse suspicion to Muggles, or non-magic beings. There are much more of them than there are now, and some of their powers are fascinating. Here I will not elaborate further, for you will see plenty in time."

There was silence for a while, until Gimli's gruff voice was heard. "Well then," he said, "when are we leavin'?"

"Patience Gimli, we shall depart tonight. All of you must take a strong sleeping draught, and while you sleep you will be taken to our destination. Gather what you need now, you must wear or hold anything you wish to take with you during the process. Meet me here tonight three hours after sunset."

They departed to prepare for the journey, but Aragorn took the wizard aside.

"Gandalf," he said, "are you sure it is right to become involved in this?"

"They need our guidance, Aragorn."

"I did not mean us. I was referring to the hobbits, especially Frodo."

Gandalf looked at the king meaningfully. "Frodo was not forced to do this, I only asked and he agreed. I do not intend for him to become deeply engaged in the direct fate of the world. I asked him to assist indirectly by counseling Harry Potter."

"You have mentioned this boy many times, my friend, but I ask you, what can Frodo do to help him?"

"Frodo and Harry, though it will take them time to realize it, have many things in common."

He left it at that, leaving a perplexed king standing alone in the corridor.

Three hours after sunset, the former Fellowship was again gathered, and within the room had been placed five large beds and an armchair. Each of them carried a small pack filled with necessities, and a preferred weapon, just in case. Gandalf awaited them.

He went to the table a lifted a very long length of rope, one end of which he tied securely around himself. "Bind yourselves together," he said, "so we will not be separated. Then drink the draughts on the table, and lie down. The smaller glasses are for the hobbits."

They did as he told them, two hobbits sharing one bed, as there were not enough for each individual, and the beds were large by hobbit standards anyway. It was not long until sleep took them, which, to Frodo at least, was a good thing. He was beginning to feel a great since of fear, and had clasped Sam's hand tightly, and with his free hand clasped Arwen's jewel.

Gandalf sat in the large armchair, closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts. He concentrated intensely, and was soon taken, in both body and mind, many centuries into the future, bringing his companions with him. Though it seemed a quick journey, it had really taken several hours, and by the time they reached the dark street, the sleeping draughts' effects had worn off, and the slumbering members had awoken, albeit drowsily.

TBC


	3. Past Meets Present

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. They were created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

Animagus-Spirit has also been illustrating for this fic, drawing a picture per chapter. You can veiw them at Arwentheelf's website,which can be accessed through my profile.

Now, thanks to all my reviewers, as well as everyone who reads this and doesn't review, because I know you're out there! Lol.

LATMC- Is this soon enough? I'll try to keep updates regular. Glad you like it!

Arwentheelf- Delighted it's growing on you! True, there is little action now, but soon enough, soon enough.

cool marauders- It's updated, it's updated! Please, spare my mind!

Cancdidus-lupus-full Moon- Glad you like it.

LordOfTheMonkeys- When I first saw LOTR, the first thing I remember thinking was that Gandalf was almost a mirror of Albus Dumbledore. After that, I started relating everything LOTR to HP. The idea for this crossover wasn't mine, it was Animagus-Spirit's, but I had always had those "what if?" questions in my head. Pleased you're enjoying it, as it's fun to write as well.

Chapter 3: Past Meets Present

They found themselves on a dark street. Large houses loomed above them, and rain fell steadily upon them. "Concentrate on what you read earlier," Gandalf ordered.

They did as he bid, and before them appeared (in their eyes out of nowhere), another large house. Though the house wasn't the most impressive thing they had ever seen, with its dirty windows and peeling paint, the way it had materialized between two neighboring houses, pushing them aside to make room for itself, was completely foreign to all present, save Gandalf, and even Aragorn felt his jaw drop.

"Come, quickly," the wizard beckoned them to follow, and hurriedly they did so. They reached the door, damp and shivering, and Gandalf knocked quietly, and it wasn't long until the door was opened (much to everyone's relief).

Standing in the doorway was a slightly plump woman with flaming red hair. She wore a cheerful yet tired expression. She swiftly ushered them inside.

"Gandalf, glad you've finally arrived!" she said, "Albus will we most relieved."

"Good evening, Molly," he said. "Allow me to introduce you to my companions."

He did so, quickly, and she greeted them each, as they did the same to her.

"Now," she said, "I am sure you are all very tired. I've managed to make some rooms livable. This house is a bit full though; you may have to share rooms. I've gotten a spare bed or two into each one for convenience…"

The bedrooms were large, much too large and empty for comfort in the hobbits' opinions, and they gladly shared accommodations. It was rather convenient, actually, the way the rooms were set up. Merry and Pippin's quarters were directly next to Frodo and Sam's, and Pippin had immediately found a closet connecting the two rooms. There was a door at each end, and it served as a handy shortcut between rooms.

Despite the long, drugged sleep, the journey had left them all exhausted. Frodo buried under the blankets, and fell asleep listening to Sam's soft snores across the room. His last thought before the drifted off was of what the morning could possibly bring.

A tickling in his ear awoke Frodo.

Or, tried to at least. He groaned and rolled over, curling into a smaller ball for protection against this intruder.

"Wake _up,_ Frodo! I'm _hungry!_"

"Go an' eat then," he mumbled from under the blankets.

"Yes…but…"

"Go 'way, Pip…sleeping…"

"Here, Pippin, try this."

There was a swish of cloth and a rush of cold air hit Frodo's body, causing him to break out in gooseflesh. He groaned and buried his head under the pillow.

"Why must you torment me so?" he said, now fully awake.

Another voice joined the conversation. "What's goin' on? Who's tormentin' who?"

Pippin and Merry smiled innocently. "Nothing," Merry said.

"No one's doing any tormenting yet…" Pippin added. The two grinned at each other, then leapt onto Frodo's bed, and began tickling him mercilessly.

"Time to wake up Frodo! Breakfast calls!" Merry said gleefully, as Frodo squirmed and giggled.

"I'm up! I'm _up!_" He shrieked. "Please! Stop this madness!"

"What's all this about?" Aragorn had walked in upon hearing the ruckus, and stood in the doorway, chuckling.

"It's about breakfast, and Frodo's laziness," Pippin explained matter-of-factly.

Frodo sat up. "I am not _lazy_. I am only trying to _sleep_." He feigned a glare at his cousins.

Aragorn grinned. "Dress and I'll show you to the kitchen."

Merry and Pippin had already done this, of course, and pressed Frodo and Sam to hurry. Of course, to spite them, they only moved more slowly. Finally they were all ready, and proceeded to follow Aragorn to the kitchen, the pleasant aromas speeding them forward.

There were a few others already seated around a long, laden, wooden table. Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli were there, as well as Molly Weasly, and a few others. There was a girl with extremely bushy brown hair, a tall, gangly, boy with freckles and the same flaming red hair as Molly (Frodo assumed that he was her son), and another rather thin boy with unruly, jet black hair. The three looked to be about the same age and two of them were immersed in conversation; they didn't notice when Aragorn and the hobbits entered. Molly looked up. "Good morning! Help yourselves to whatever you want, there's plenty to go around."

It certainly seemed so, even for four hobbits. They seated themselves across from the trio, and it was then that they were noticed by them.

The boy with the red hair looked up and stared. "Hi," he said, "what…er…who are you?"

The girl looked up and rolled her eyes. "They're _hobbits_, Ron."

He looked confused and she rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him," she said. "Anyway, I'm Hermione Granger, this is Ron Weasly, and Harry Potter." She waved a hand.

"Frodo Baggins, at your service and your family's," he said. "These are my cousins, Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took, and my dear friend, Sam Gamgee." _So this is the mysterious Harry Potter I've heard so much about_, he thought.

Hermione looked surprised. "Did you say Frodo Baggins? I've read all about you, and the things you did! Amazing really, what-"

"Y-you _read_ about me?" Frodo stammered.

"Yes! Of course!" She continued, as Ron and Harry exchanged looks. "The book you and your uncle wrote was adapted by a man named Tolkien, and he had millions of copies published. The entire world knows your story! Of course, the Muggles think it's only a story, but we know it's true history. It's fascinating, really, unbelievable that you accomplished all of that. Destroying the Ring, and defeating Sauron, it's _incredible_! I could never have done it, I mean-"

"Stop it, Hermione."

"-astonishing how you managed-"

"Shut UP, Hermione!"

"-that far-what, Harry?"

"That's enough."

Harry, who had been watching Frodo throughout Hermione's speech, had noticed the anxiety that had first settled on the hobbit. As Hermione spoke, he had paled several shades and shut his eyes tightly, as if trying to rid his mind of a fearful image.

No one else had noticed the abrupt halt in conversation. Frodo took a shuddering breath

to calm himself. Pippin, jumped in, covering for his cousin's discomfort.

"Merry and I've had plenty of adventures ourselves, haven't we Mer?"

That set Hermione off again, asking them questions about their encounter with Treebeard and the flooding of Isengard.

Sam leaned over and whispered in Frodo's ear. "Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo nodded, he had recovered rather quickly this time, and began spooning eggs onto his plate, listening to Merry and Pippin's tale, and adding comments here and there. After awhile, others joined them. The hobbits (they soon realized they had slept later then the rest of the Fellowship,) were introduced to Remus Lupin, Tonks, (she did not tell them her first name), and Fred and George Weasly, with whom Merry and Pippin got along wonderfully.

After breakfast (and after Molly refused help with the dishes), the twins, Ron, and Herminie (Harry declined with a muttered, "No thanks."), gave them a tour around the house. (Not that there was much to see.) Afterwards, the hobbits watched Fred and Ron play a game of Wizard's Chess with rapt attention, extreme interest, and a ravenous curiosity. They found they had hundreds of questions about how the world had changed. They were not disappointed either, for Hermione was overjoyed to feed them all the information she was capable of; their hunger was satisfied momentarily, until another question would emerge and require answering.

"So, let me get this straight," said Pippin. "You leave home for school in September, and don't come home until the end of June?" Hermione and Ron nodded. "And you spend almost ten months just learning how to do _magic_?"

"Well there's much more-" started Hermione, but Ron cut her off.

"That's pretty much it, mate."

"Could you show us something?" Pippin inquired with innocent curiosity.

"Well," said Hermione, "we're not supposed to use magic at all outside of school."

"Not true, Hermione. We have permission this year, remember, because of You-Know-Who coming back," said Ron.

"Still, Ron, we're only supposed to use magic if we really need to…"

"It's not like Dumbledore and the Ministry are going to care anyway Hermione! How many people from Hogwarts do you think have used magic already anyway?"

"So you do something then."

Ron's ears turned pink. "I can't…if mum found out…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, she's right. We really shouldn't unless-"

CRASH

Everyone whipped around to the other side of the room, where Fred had, seemingly accidentally, shattered a large vase.

"Oops," he said, trying to look sheepish. "Think you could fix that, George? Afraid I left my wand in our room."

"So did I," George admitted, also trying to look innocent.

"Hermione?" they both said.

"You're both _so _clever, aren't you?" She pulled out her wand. "I suppose a little magic won't hurt…just a simple spell anyway…_reparo!_" The vase instantly repaired itself, much to the hobbit's delight. Gandalf's fireworks may be impressive, but they had never seen anything of this sort before.

"She wanted to do it," George whispered in Frodo's ear. "She just needed a reason to."

Frodo grinned.

The hobbits paid for their knowledge with, well, knowledge. Not only were the hobbits inquisitive about the future, but they found that the others were just as interested in the past. Even Fred and George wanted to know about Middle-Earth and its peoples.

"Elves are _tall?_" I mean, I've seen Legolas, but never really thought he was an _elf_…"

"Maybe because you don't think, Ron," Fred pointed out.

They spoke many hours, about both past and future. From the landscape of

Middle-Earth to the shape of the earth now; from the Kings of Old to the rulers and governments of this time; from the Elven languages to the names of spells; from what _exactly_ a hobbit was and what made them so different from other races, to wizards and Muggles and how they came about. They all gained a large amount of wisdom, and in the middle of the telling of Valinor Harry joined them, though he did more listening than speaking. Frodo studied him, doing his best to unmask what he could of Harry by his mere actions and words. He didn't gain much, and by the supper time he had accomplished no more of his task than he had before he arrived. He realized, suddenly, that he had yet to thank Harry for his timely rescue at breakfast, and he awaited the chance to talk to him undisturbed.

Frodo got his chance after dinner, when everyone was headed in their separate directions. He caught Harry on the stairs, making his way to his room.

"Harry!"

Harry turned at the sound of his name, and waited while Frodo walked up to him. "Hi, Frodo." he said.

"I wanted to thank you," he said, "for earlier, at breakfast."

"Oh, right…no problem." Harry muttered.

"I greatly appreciate it. Thank you."

"Sure." He turned and began walking the rest of the way to his bedroom. He remembered the incident at breakfast, and got to wondering what _had_ made this Frodo so sensitive to what Hermione had said. He shook his head. Not that it was any of his business, and not that he really cared. He was just thinking and wondering, something he did quite a large amount of lately.

As for Frodo, he went back to his room and took a small book from his pack. He found a comfortable position on the window seat, and was soon absorbed in the text. After a few hours, he grew tired, changed into a night shirt and lay down in bed. So far, he thought, things had gone well. He closed his eyes, and had almost drifted off to sleep when a thought hit him. A thought so strange that the abnormality of it made him shiver. In fact, he realized, it wasn't so much of a _thought_ than a _feeling_. He suddenly felt as if he'd been there before, in this exact house, at this exact time and under the same circumstances. The déjà vu was followed closely by a feeling of dread he could not explain. He shook his head to rid himself of it, rolled onto his side and drifted into slumber.


	4. Unforeseen Circumstances

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

To my reviewers...

UK All The Way- :bows: Thank you, thank you.

Arwentheelf- I love long reviews, and constructive criticism is the greatest praise. (And big long comments on everything) Anyway, long reviews get long responses…so:

Merry and Pippin are always grouped together aren't they? Funny that I group them, because I complain about them being "one person" all the time…thanks for the reminder…have to change that…

Nope, sorry, no romance. There was, originally, but it didn't fit with the story. Comedy? lol I could try…:-/

Paragraph break issues…that's a new one…

The entire story is mostly from Frodo's POV, but there will probably be a lot from Harry as well. Merry and/or Pippin too, and when Animagus writes her bit of it there will be other characters. To say more would be too much…

Yes, I plan to delve deeper into thoughts and emotions and such later on. There's actually a bit of the 'how the war is affecting each character" in the next chapter, but not as much as there will be.

Some action in this chapter! More in the next. We're getting there…slowly but surely…oh yeah, and character conflicts too!

I know you love dialogue! This chapter has a lot more than it first did. I changed it on account of if not you'd say it's boring…lol

Ginny! I know! I'm a terrible person, I somehow forgot completely about her! She's in this chapter, though. I would have added her in the last chapter but…you know…

Sorry if Harry is OOC…I'm not a huge Harry fan, so it's hard to get into his head…Animagus once said I wasn't making him "lonely and separated" enough. I tried to fix that.

Stereo-typical…lol, maybe I'll let you write scenes with Ron and Hermione…lol

Maybe it is boring in the beginning, but it was you who once said the beginning of Sorcerer's Stone was boring, remember? I thought so too, actually…

Glad my writing is improving instead of…not improving…lol. Let's hope it continues that way.

Long reviews are the best: )

LATMC- Yes, I always drew a line from Merry and Pippin to Fred and George. It's just obvious, you know? Frodo and Harry do have many things in common, too. I'll also do my best to keep my updates "soon enough" for my reviewers. I try to have at least one more chapter written before I post again, that way if I get behind I have a back-up.

Maethril Aranel- Very glad you like! It is weird that we have that in common, especially considering I don't know many people who like Lost, sadly…also, thanks for the review for "These Eleven Months."

coolmarauders- Lol, amusing review, lol! Thanks!

Celebwen Telcontar- Delighted you're enjoying this. Gimli and Legolas do have some small roles, but they're not large parts.

Radszilla- Thank you! I hope that I can continue to hold your interest. Lol.

candidus-lupus-full Moon- Thanks! Here's more.

Infallallthingsaremadesplended- Delighted you like it. When Animagus and I created this fic, we never expected to write or post it. We intended it to be different. I'm glad it's being excepted well. : )

LillyandJamesforever- Yep, updated! I wanted to update sooner but didn't have the time…I'm glad it has "depth" as you put it. The hard part is making it realistic, which includes loading it with emotion/thoughts/feelings/ect, so I'm glad that's showing through...

Chapter 4: Unforeseen Circumstances

Frodo awoke the next morning feeling refreshed. Seeing that Sam was still asleep, he decided not to wake him and instead made his way to the kitchen alone. When he arrived, the only other people in the room were Hermione and Ron.

"Good morning, Frodo," said Hermione cheerfully. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," he replied, "Where is everyone?"

"The Order's meeting in the drawing room, so is Gandalf and everyone, " said Ron. "Fred and George are at work, and your cousins are still asleep I guess, and Harry's in our room."

Frodo began placing sausages onto his plate. "What do Fred and George do?" he asked with honest curiosity.

"They own a joke shop in Diagon Alley - that's a big shopping place for us - Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. It's really great, some of the stuff they've come up with…"

"It is _not _'really great' Ron! They should spend their lives doing something constructive, not selling possibly harmful products just for their own amusement!" chided Hermione.

"You sound like Mum. Anyway, what are they going to do? They never took their N.E.W.T.s, remember? And they're not harmful!" Ron said

"Well, that was wrong too, they should have finished off the year-"

"What, with Umbridge? Come off it Hermione, you were cheering too when they left!"

She looked defeated. "Yes, well, they still should've done the exams…"

"Speaking of exams," said a voice. "These have just arrived."

Remus Lupin had just entered the room, carrying a couple of important letters. Hermione gasped. "The O.W.L results! I've been waiting all summer for these!" She practically knocked the table over in her haste to reach the letters. Hurrying back to the table, she flung Ron's at him and with shaking hands opened her own envelope.

Ron stared at her. "I don't see what you're so worried about, you get top marks in every class…"

Hermione let out a shriek of delight, and reappeared from behind the letter, beaming. "Top marks in everything!" she said gleefully. "What about you, Ron? Open it!"

Ron hadn't opened his, he merely stared at the envelope. Finally he reached for it and slowly broke the seal. He pulled out the letter and looked over it quickly. His expression brightened. "Not bad!" he said. "Failed Divination though, not that I didn't expect it…Potions isn't any better…Hey! I got an "Acceptable" in Transfiguration! That's better than I thought! I'm going to go find Harry!"

Hermione rolled her eyes while Remus laughed. "Don't worry," he said, seeing Frodo's confused expression. "Ordinary Wizarding Level results normally do that to some people."

"And Ron getting an "Acceptable" is like Snape giving out candy," said a red-headed girl who had just walked in.

"Hi, Ginny!" said Hermione. "Where've you been?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Mum grounded me for setting off dungbombs in Snape's room. She didn't catch Fred and George though," she said.

"Oh, Ginny, this is Frodo, he's-"

"I know," said Ginny. "Extendable Ears." She held out a hand. "I'm Ginny. You've met my brothers."

Frodo shook her hand. "Frodo Baggins at your service and you family's. A pleasure to meet you."

At that moment, Merry, Pippin, and Sam entered, obviously following the smells of a promising meal and looking for Frodo.

"Morning, Frodo!" said Merry. He looked around. "Anyone know where Fred and George have gone?"

"They're working," said Frodo and Hermione in unison.

"Guess we'll have to wait until later, Pip."

"What are you waiting for?" asked Frodo.

"Oh, George and Fred said they'd show us some of the things they'd invented," Merry said.

Hermione made a small sound of annoyance but otherwise said nothing.

After they had finished eating, Frodo and Sam went back to their room and set about making it look as home-like and lived in as possible. They spread the small items they had brought with them around the room, but it didn't make much of a difference. Still, it was the best they could do.

Merry and Pippin bounded out from the closet and glanced around the room. "Preparing to stay, cousin?" Merry asked.

"Not permanently, why?" asked Frodo. Merry and Pippin exchanged glances. "Well, we overheard Gandalf and Aragorn talking, and it seems we may be here for awhile."

Frodo looked slightly worried. "How long?"

"I don't know. Hopefully not too long."

"Aye," said Sam. "I hate to leave Rosie for too long, especially with Tom still so young. Elanor and Frodo'll take care of them all, but I still worry…"

Merry smiled. "They'll be fine, Sam. There's nothing to worry about."

"Hey! Frodo! What's this doing here?" Pippin cried from across the room, where he held up Sting, obviously having just found it underneath Frodo's bed.

"Put that down Pippin!" Frodo scolded. "I brought it for the same reasons you brought your sword."

"Yes, but why's it under the bed?"

Frodo shrugged. "For safekeeping I suppose. Where else would I put it?"

"You'll wear it, of course!" Pippin said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He hurried over to Frodo and attached the sheath onto his belt.

"There you are Frodo!" he said, grinning.

Frodo sighed, but nonetheless did not take it off. Why, after all, bring a sword but not have it with him when he may need it?

"Anyway," said Merry, "we were going to have a look around the house. Care to join us?"

Frodo shook his head. "No. Thank you, Merry, but I think I'll just stay here awhile."

Merry nodded. "Sam?"

"No, Mr. Merry, I think I'll stay here too." he said.

"All right. Come on, Pip," he said, and they left.

Frodo walked over to the window and sat on the window seat. It was a dreary, wet day. Rain splattered on the ground and drummed on the roof. For awhile Frodo watched the small rivers of water running down the window and splashing on the sill. _Flowers, _he thought, _all this sad house needs is a few flowers so brighten this dark atmosphere._

Frodo pulled himself from his thoughts and looked up to see Sam rearranging a portrait of his family on the wardrobe in the corner. Frodo frowned. Sam shouldn't have come with him, his job was no longer to follow Frodo across the countryside (or in this case, time). His duty was to be with his family, to love and care for them. They had been here two days, and there had been no talk of Voldemort nor hint of danger. Although Frodo was not naïve enough to believe that there would not be, he felt secure here. After all, hadn't Gandalf said he was only to offer guidance to Harry? What harm could come from that?

And what harm could come from a small golden ring? said a voice in his head. Frodo brushed away the feeling quickly, thinking himself foolish. He smiled reassuringly at Sam, who had seen Frodo watching him.

"Well, Sam, what do you think of the future?" he said cheerfully.

Sam seemed to think a moment. "I'm no quite sure. It's interestin', that's for certain. The people are kind folk, and the food's not changed, but I can't seem to decide much else. I'm not sure…" he frowned, as if trying to find words for what he wasn't sure of.

"You are not sure if it is friend or foe?" Frodo suggested.

"Aye, that's it," Sam said, nodding.

"I think it is just different. I do not think we have anything to fear or worry about yet. I for one am quite enjoying myself, as a matter of fact."

"Hmph," said Sam. "I don't know." Then his demeanor changed, and more quietly he said, "Mr. Frodo, have you heard anythin' about, about what we're here for? This Voldemort and this war, I mean."

Frodo shook his head. "I haven't, but I'm sure we shall soon. Do not fret, Sam. What will come will come, and when it does we will know. Gandalf will keep us informed."

"I guess you're right, sir, but I can't help thinking we're bein' left out of somethin', beggin' your pardon."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, it's just…it's just we've been here nearly two days now, and Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin said they heard Mr. Gandalf and Mr. Strider talkin', and…I don't know, Mr. Frodo, it just doesn't fit right with me."

Frodo considered him. "You may have something there Sam, but it does not seem likely. I shall speak with Gandalf at dinner, and see what I can discover. Don't worry," he added, grinning at the look of slight fear on the stout hobbit's face, "I will tell him nothing of your suspicions, dear Sam."

However, Frodo did not get a chance to speak with Gandalf at dinner, for he was not present. He ate quickly, and then, before anyone else was finished, quietly excused himself and left the kitchen, deciding to search for the wizard himself.

After failing to find him anywhere on the first floor, he proceeded to the second. Perhaps Gandalf was in his room, meditating or doing something else of the sort. He checked quickly, but the wizard was not there either. Puzzled, and thinking he had perhaps missed him, he turned to head back to the kitchen. As he passed an open doorway, however, he happened to glance inside.

Harry was sitting on his bed, holding what looked like a small mirror in his hands. He seemed to be deep in thought, and Frodo half turned to leave, but decided to take this chance to get to know the boy.

He knocked quietly. "Harry?"

Harry looked up, surprised. He stood up and shoved whatever it was he was holding into his pocket. "Oh, hi, Frodo," he said.

"Can I come in?" Frodo asked, not wanting to intrude further.

"What? Oh, yeah, sure. Why aren't you at dinner?" he asked, as Frodo stepped into the room. It had two beds, and he assumed Ron shared this room. It looked more lived in, however, than the one he shared with Sam. He also noticed two owls, a large white one and a small, gray one, perched in open cages on top of the wardrobe.

"I might ask you the same thing," Frodo said. "I was just looking for Gandalf, have you seen him?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I haven't. I've been up here most of the day."

"Why?"

Harry shrugged. "There's nothing else to."

CRASH!

It sounded as though a door had been ripped from it's hinges. Both Frodo and Harry whipped around. A long, low howl sounded, echoing off the walls and causing the hair on Frodo's neck to stand on end. There was silence from downstairs, then Molly's high pitched shriek. "Severus! The potion!"

"SEAL THE DOOR!" another voice shouted.

There were slamming sounds from below, and from just down the hall, snarls and growls. Frodo turned to look at Harry, whose eyes were wide and fearful.

"What" but the question was answered for him. Something crashed across the hall, and Frodo spun around to see a large and fearsome wolf standing in the doorway across from them.

"MOVE!" Harry yelled, and as Frodo flung himself aside, he ran to the door and slammed it shut. From his pocket he pulled out his wand, pointed it at the door and shouted, "_Colloportus!"_

There was an odd squelching sound, and then the sound of something heavy thudding against the door. Harry stood aside. "_Accio, wardrobe!" _he shouted, and the wardrobe zoomed across the room, causing both owls to fly from their cages, shrieking. Harry shoved the wardrobe against the door, and then looked around. He pointed his wand at a trunk at the end of his bed. "_Accio, Firebolt!"_ A shining broom flew from the trunk and stopped in front of Harry, hovering in the air. Frodo stared and Harry mounted it.

He turned to Frodo as there was another loud thud against the door. The wardrobe actually seemed to rock forward slightly, and there was a crack that sounded like splintering wood.

"Get on!" Harry ordered.

"What?" Frodo said, completely lost.

"GET ON!" Harry yelled, and there was another thud and more splintering wood.

Frodo did, awkwardly and feeling foolish. Harry pointed his wand at the window, "_Alohomora!" _The window flew open, and both owls, seeking sanctuary from the chaos inside, flew quickly out.

"Hang on!" Harry said, and Frodo barely had time to grasp the handle of the broomstick before Harry kicked off from the floor and sped through the open window into the darkness, the door finally giving way and the wardrobe falling forward and splintering behind them.

TBC


	5. Back to Privet Drive

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

Dracula555- Yep, full moon. Romance…not likely, sorry if I disappoint you. Glad you're liking the story though.

LATMC- Liked the cliffy huh? Great! Lol. Here's the next bit.

infallallthingsaremadesplended- I do need to have Gimli, Legolas and Gorny more, don't I? Thanks for catching me there, I forget myself. I know everyone (just about everyone) wants romance, but it just doesn't fit the plot. It would be interesting though….hmm…I'll consult with Animagus on that one.

LilyandJamesforever- Thank you for the thoughtful review, I'll gladly leave some feedback on your story. Yes, that was Moony as the werewolf. I also grant you permission to use that word usage you asked about, as long as you credit it to me. I'm flattered, really that you asked. Animagus-Spirit thanks you as well for the praise, lol.

coolmarauders- LOL, thanks for the…uh…interesting, review. Haha! Just wondering, but what's with the pole? Is it even possible to murder a pole? Lol, I still think your reviews are amusing.

Arwentheelf- I saved you for last because, again, your review was the longest. Here goes:

Space issues- that happened in the process of uploading the chapter. I've fixed it, thanks for letting me know.

Characters- need more emotion, right, mechanical, got it. Will try to repair. Lol : )

Hermione&Ron- lol, just over looked that I guess. You don't like Tolkien's imagery! faints You told me that before…yeah sometimes it does drag on when you're eager to get on with the story, anyway, that's off subject….

Hermione- ah, nothing to say on that except "ok"

OWL- sorry if you didn't like that. Just an extra thing I threw in so the story doesn't seem completely straightforward, if you know what I mean.

Ginny- Animagus actually thought of the grounding excuse, can't take that credit. I thought of dung bombs. Although, you're right in that Ginny wouldn't be the one getting caught, what was I supposed to do?

Merry- Yep, "Mr. Merry". Class thing. The "Mr." thing always, always, always bothered me, but it's now drilled into my system.

Meditate- Why not? I'm not sure if it ever says in the books that Gandalf meditates, haven't read them forever, but various fics have him meditating. He says he does in the first chapter, btw. That's how they got here…

Action- Yes, I know Harry would probably stay and fight, but I don't just sit here and say "ok, this is going to happen next." The entire story is created, the sequence written down and everything. Originally, this wasn't to be posted, it was a fun pastime for Animagus and I. I've changed a few things all ready, but changing that detail wouldn't have worked.

Romance- Sorry, but I don't think so. See above for my excuse.

Harry- Good points there. I don't like Harry. Never did. shrugs He's an important character though, so…

Stereo-typical- and lecturing and criticizing you are excellent at, might I add. Lol

POV- Ok, this is where I get to debate with you. I know you hate Frodo, but please refrain from reminding me! It makes me sad. I know Merry and Pippin aren't one person. Also, they really are serious characters. In the movie they're more comical. They're the pranksters of the group, but like Fred and George (and maybe more so) they can be serious, and there will be a time in this fic when they will need to be. Sam IS a fun POV, I haven't posted anything in his but I've written it. Thing is, with Sam I sometimes drag on with his thoughts (because it's so fun!)

Thanks, and yes, a very long review. (about 2 pgs on Word)

Sorry for the delay in getting this posted, hopefully the chapter will make up for it.

Finally…

Chapter 5: Back to Privet Drive

Harry flew. He flew without caring whether they were seen, even though the dark clouds, heavy with rainwater and the damp, gray mist that surrounded them would probably keep them hidden from watchful eyes. Besides, they we flying so fast he doubted any Muggles would be able to distinguish anything from the blurred figure they would briefly see. He knew his destination; he just had to get there. He was pretty sure he knew where he was going, but he constantly kept a seeker's eye on the ground below at all times.

Frodo held tightly to the wooden handle of the broom, eyes shut tightly against both the height and the wave of nausea that was assailing him. He had never experienced anything of the sort, unless you count the ride from Mordor on the Great Eagles, but, of course, he had no memory of that. He shivered against the chill of the wind, and wished he had thought to bring his cloak, but then, he hadn't planned on being in this situation either.

With an uncomfortable jerk of his stomach, Frodo realized with mingled fear and relief that they were landing, and again he swallowed, trying to keep the nausea at bay. Behind him, Harry's feet hit the ground; the broom stopped abruptly, and Frodo tumbled off of it onto soft grass. He remained still a moment, breathing deeply and allowing his insides to settle, then stood up and looked around.

He was standing on a neatly kept lawn, in front of a friendly looking house. A soft glow of light shined from behind closed curtains. He looked at Harry.

"Where are we?" he asked.

Harry had a look of disgust on his face. "My aunt and uncle's house," he said. "It was the only place I could think to go. Come on."

He led the way up to the front door, pulled out his wand, pointed it at the lock, and said, "_Alohomora!"_ Harry put his wand back in his pocket as the door flew open with a great deal of force and banged loudly against the wall. There was a shriek from somewhere inside, and then, shortly afterwards, the pounding of footsteps heading in there direction.

A large, purple-faced, man with hardly any neck came storming into the hallway. When he laid eyes on Harry, his own eyes bulged and his face turned a deep crimson.

"YOU!" He bellowed. "WHAT ARE _YOU _DOING HERE!"

"Last time I checked," Harry said, "I lived here."

There was a sound from the doorway across the hall, and Frodo saw a bony-cheeked woman and a blonde boy, who looked very much like whom Frodo assumed to be his father.

"What is it, Vernon?" the woman asked.

"It's the boy, Petunia! He's back!" Vernon said loudly. Then turning to Harry, he said, "Why are you here? I thought you'd gone to stay with your freaky little friends."

Harry glared at him. "I did, but I thought I'd come by for a visit," he said with an edge of sarcasm.

Vernon's face turned a deeper shade and he glared back at Harry. "Don't use that tone with me, boy!" he growled.

"I'll use whatever tone I'd like to, thanks!" Harry shouted.

Vernon swelled with rage, and then noticed Frodo.

"What in God's name is _that_!" he said.

Frodo made as if to say something, but Harry cut him off, "What's it to you!" he spat.

Vernon turned on Harry and stormed forward. Before Harry could react, he seized Harry around the neck with his thick hand and pinned him against the wall. "I WILL NOT HAVE YOU BRING ABNORMALITIES INTO THIS HOUSEHOLD!" he roared, infuriated. "I DO NOT WANT MY FAMILY ASSOCIATED WITH ANYONE OF…_YOUR_ SORT!"

Shocked, at first Frodo could only stare, at a loss of what to do. Then, in a burst of sudden remembrance, he reached to his side and found that he had not removed Sting. Quickly, and without a second's hesitation, he unsheathed it and leaping upon a small table near the wall pointed the blade at Vernon's throat.

"Release him," he demanded firmly. "Or I'll cut your throat."

A wave of fear passed over Vernon's face, and he released Harry, who sank to the floor, unconscious. Vernon stepped back, Sting still pointed at his throat. Frodo advanced, not intending to strike but to drive the man out of the hall. He succeeded; Vernon, Petunia, and their son retreated backwards towards the stairs, and then hurried up them and out of sight.

Frodo sheathed Sting, and then hurried over to Harry. Placing his fingers on his neck, he felt a pulse and let out a breath of relief.

"Harry," he said shaking him. "Wake up, Harry."

Frodo frowned worriedly. He looked around, pondering what to do. He was just about to search for some water when he heard running footsteps.

An elderly woman with grizzled gray hair had hurried up to the front porch of Number Four. When she looked inside and saw the scene that was before her, she let out a gasp, and looked to Frodo.

"What's happened!" she shrieked.

Frodo quickly recounted the tale of Vernon Dursley's rage.

"Oh, dear, let's see if we can wake him then…Harry…Harry, wake up dear, come on now, _that's _it…there you go…" Slowly, Harry began to come back into consciousness.

"M-Mrs. Figg? What are you doing here?" he said shakily.

"I heard noises, foolish boy, so I came to make sure everything was all right."

"How'd you know we were here?"

"I didn't," she replied. "I have no idea why you're here, of course, but can't one check up on her neighbors? Come on, boy, we're going back to my house. Can you walk?"

Harry nodded slowly, then rubbed his neck grimacing slightly. There were angry red marks from where Vernon's fingers had held him. Holding to the wall for support, he pulled himself off the floor and shakily followed the Mrs. Figg out the door, Frodo bringing up the rear.

They passed the broomstick still lying on the lawn, and Harry made as if to pick it up, but Frodo retrieved it and carried it (although with some difficulty, because it was much larger than he was) for him.

They reached a house much similar to the one they had left, but upon entering it, Frodo found that it was much different. It was not spotless, in fact it was much more cluttered, and smelled strongly of cabbage. Out of the corner of his eye, Frodo saw a cat dart out of sight around a corner.

"Sit here," Mrs. Figg said gently, gesturing to the couch. "I'll make some tea." Harry sat down, followed by Frodo, who set the broomstick carefully on the floor. They said nothing; Harry unwilling to speak and Frodo unsure of what to say. Mrs. Figg returned shortly with the tea, and Frodo thanked her and drank gratefully.

"Now," said Mrs. Figg, "what are you doing back here, Harry? You're supposed to be with the Order for the rest of the summer."

"Snape forgot to make the wolf's bane potion for Lupin," he said, glaring at the mere thought of it. "Frodo and I had to get out, and I couldn't think where else to go, so…"

"Forgot to make the potion, did he? Well, at least you got here and not someplace dangerous. Do the others know you're here?"

"No," said Harry shortly, "There was no time, we were escaping from a werewolf, remember?"

"Of course you were," she said. "They should know you're here though." She stood, and lit a fire in the hearth. She then removed a small jar of what to Frodo looked like ashes from the mantelpiece. "Come on now, boy, if you have the strength."

Harry heaved himself off the couch, traveled a short distance to the fireplace, took a pinch of the powdery substance, knelt in front of the fire, and threw some of it in. The flames, to Frodo's amazement, turned emerald green. Then, Frodo let out a cry of surprise as Harry stuck his head in the flames and yelled "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!"

It was easily the strangest thing Frodo had ever witnessed, and he stared dumbly, eyes wide at the flames.

There was another cry of surprise back at Number Twelve, when Harry's head appeared in the fire. Pippin had seen it first, and his cry alerted the others.

"Harry!" several cried, and then crowded around the fireplace.

"Are you all right?"

"Where are you?"

"How'd you get away?"

"What happened?"

"Out of the way! Out of the way! _Move,_ Ginny!" Molly Weasley shoved her way to the front of the crowd. "Harry, dear, where are you? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he said, "I'm at Mrs. Figg's house." There were banging noises from somewhere above them. "What's happening?"

"Good, you're safe then. Don't worry about us, Harry, the door's been sealed. We'll send someone for you as soon as we can." she said.

"How'd you get there, Harry?" said Fred.

"We flew," Harry said dully.

"Flew? Wicked, mate!" said Ron.

"We?" Sam said. "So Mr. Frodo's there! Is he alright?"

"Yeah," said Harry, as relief washed over several faces. He thought to mention Snape's forgetfulness, perhaps purpose forgetfulness, but decided it was unwise to say so in front of so many Order members. If Sirius were there…he shook his head. "Well, I guess I'll go." He pulled his head back out of the fire and found Frodo gaping at him.

"You…how did you…?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't ask me how it works." he sat back down on the couch and turned to Mrs. Figg. "Mrs. Weasley said she'd send someone as soon as she can."

"All right, all right. You'll stay here for now. You could take the guest bedroom, but I wouldn't recommend that, the cats have claimed that as theirs…."

"I'll stay here then," said Harry , and Frodo nodded.

"Very well, help yourselves to anything, watch TV if you want. I'm going to bed, goodnight."

She left the room, and finally Frodo had a chance to speak with Harry without interruption. "Sorry, Harry, but all that has happened…I'm afraid I don't understand much of it."

Harry sighed. "Lupin, you met him, is a werewolf," seeing Frodo's blank expression, he went on. "Every full moon he turns into a wolf…well, not a normal wolf but…anyway, he's not dangerous if he takes this potion Snape-don't know if you've met him, if you haven't that's a good thing, trust me-makes, but obviously Snape forgot…"

"And your uncle?"

Harry snorted. "He can't stand anything that has to do with magic, he and my aunt just got stuck with me after my parents died." he shrugged. "Sorry about all that earlier. There wasn't any time."

"You saved my life, Harry," said Frodo with realization.

Harry's demeanor darkened. "Don't start that. The last thing I need is for someone else to tell me I have a "saving-people thing."

"Please, forgive me."

"Sure."

Frodo shivered, suddenly cold, and moved to an armchair closer to the fire that Mrs. Figg had neglected to put out. He noticed she had set some blankets for them on the coffee table while Harry had been speaking with the Order members. He took one, and wrapping it around his shoulders settled comfortably in the cushions. It wasn't long until he had drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The fire had receded to nothing more than glowing embers, and the room was shrouded in darkness. The only source of adequate light was that of the full moon shining through a gap in the curtains, forming distorted shapes from the shadows it created.

Frodo shuddered despite himself. The dreams had come back again, twisting and writhing about his mind until he felt he would go mad with the fear and the pain until he had finally been pulled into awareness by his own will. Yet, now that he was alert, he could no longer remember what he had dreamt. His own consciousness had driven the very last threads of the nightmare beyond his reach, and although he strove to grasp them, to understand why these ghastly images of terror were haunting him, they were gone, evaporated into an empty nothingness.

He sighed and settled back into the soft cushions of the armchair, again wrapping the blanket securely around him. He closed his eyes, allowing his heavy breathing to calm and his trembling to cease.

A groan from behind caused him to start slightly. He leaned around the side of the chair to see Harry softly struggling in the blankets on the couch. So, he was not the only one with troubled dreams.

Frodo rose from his chair and made his way to the couch. He slowly reached out a hand and rested it on Harry's shoulder. "Harry," he said, shaking him. "Harry!"

The boy came to his senses and looked blearily around, only seeing blurred shapes for he did not have his glasses on. Frodo studied him carefully. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," said Harry, though Frodo was sure he heard a small tremor in his voice. "I'm fine, just a dream."

Frodo nodded and let him be, but he was also sure it was the same "I'm fine" that he himself used on similar occasions in an attempt to reassure a worried Sam.

TBC


	6. Memories of the Past

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

To my reviewers...

Infallallthingsaremadesplended- The dreams, Frodo's at least, will have meaning in the plot. Harry and Frodo are not having the same dream, but they are having very SIMILAR dreams. Although, Harry is dreaming of the past and Frodo of the future. I'll leave it at that for now. evil grin

LATMC- Very connected are Frodo and Harry. (whoa that sounds like Yoda…) Anyway, Harry does need people to understand what he is going through (even though he won't admit it) and Frodo is perfect for that. (even though he doesn't know it)

UK All The Way- Glad the length was suitable, the chapter seemed too long to me at while writing it, but it's better than short. As I told infallallthingsaremadesplended, Harry is dreaming of past events in his life. Also happy you liked the "fine" thing. That was fun, even though it wasn't much.

coolmarauders- "Interesting" is definitely a good word. Also, LOL!

Dracula555- Ah, I figured most would know that the 'wolf' was really Lupin, whom I am also a HUGE fan of!

Callisto Star- Welcome aboard. Delighted you're enjoying. Yes, Harry and Frodo share much, although they don't know it…yet…evil laugh

Chapter 6: Memories of the Past

The next morning dawned brighter than the day before. Whether it was the light shining in through the parted curtains that awoke him or the smells and sounds of breakfast being made did not matter. Frodo awoke, stretched and stood. Harry was missing from the couch, and Frodo assumed he was in the kitchen, so he made his way in that direction. He had been correct, and sat down next to him at the scrubbed wooden table.

Mrs. Figg waved a hand at the plates of food on the table. "Help yourself," she said.

They all ate in silence, none of them saying a word. After eating, Mrs. Figg shooed them from the kitchen and they retreated to the sitting room. Frodo folded the quilt that lay crumpled on the armchair and set it back on the table. Harry, meanwhile, picked up a rectangular object and pointed it at a box against the wall. Instantly, a picture appeared on the box and sound emitted from it. Frodo jumped with a small yelp; he had been standing right in front of it.

Harry laughed. "Meet the TV, Frodo."

Frodo stared. A woman dressed smartly was gesturing to a map behind her. "We have some light rainfall moving through London at about mid afternoon," she was saying.

Harry had to laugh again at the look of amazement on Frodo's face. He changed the channel to a game of football, then flipped through several times just to astound the hobbit. Frodo shook his head. "Incredible," he said. "When did this come about?"

"Years ago," said Harry, amused. It was the first time he'd smiled in, well, awhile.

It was a full two weeks before they heard anything from the Order. Harry, Frodo, and Mrs. Figg had been eating a very late dinner in the dining room when a loud crack was heard, causing the three to jump. Arthur Weasley had apparated in the middle of the room. Frodo was only a little shaken, he was beginning to expect anything.

"Hello, Arabella, Harry, Frodo," he said. He looked drained, as if he hadn't had any sleep in days, but he smiled good naturedly all the same. "Hope you've all been well."

"Well, it's about time! It's not that I mind, Arthur, but really, two weeks?"

"Terribly sorry, Arabella, I would've come early last week, but there's been some trouble…"

"What?" said Harry. "What happened?"

Arthur sighed and sat down. Mrs. Figg stood up and poured him a cup of tea.

"Thank you Arabella," he said as she sat down, also looking interested. He shot a quick glance at Harry, as if unsure whether or not to continue, but then looked back at Mrs. Figg. "About two and a half weeks ago, we sent three members, Nymphadora Tonks, Mundungus Fletcher, and…and Kingsley Shaklebolt to find out what they could about You-Know-Who's whereabouts."

There was something about the way Arthur had spoken the last Order member's name that caught Frodo's attention. They way he'd hesitated and stuttered made him think that this news was ill; that dark fates had fallen…

"And…?" said Harry.

Arthur drank deeply from his teacup and emptied it. "Something stronger, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Figg. He shook his head.

"They were captured and tortured," he said with solemnity yet with a tremor in his voice. Mrs. Figg's hands flew to her mouth and Frodo gasped. Harry stood up so fast he knocked his chair over.

"And what-" he began, but was cut short.

"Harry, Harry, they did not give information, all three were strong. Tonks and Mundungus were able to escape. They are in St. Mungo's now."

"And…and Kingsley?" asked Harry with mounting dread and anger.

Arthur shook his head. "He was killed, Harry."

There was silence except for the clatter of breaking china as Mrs. Figg dropped her teacup. Harry, shaking in rage, turned and stormed out of the room. After a few moments they heard the door slam.

No one moved or spoke. Then, silently Frodo stood, excused himself and followed Harry out the door. He found him sitting on the curb, elbows on his knees and arms dangling between his legs, staring off into the darkness.

"Harry…"

"Don't," he said. "Just don't. You have no idea. You have no idea what it's like to lose everyone you've ever loved or cared about. To lose so much because of one person…"

Frodo stood motionless and said nothing for a moment, choosing his words carefully. Then, he said, "You are not as alone as you think, Harry. Sometimes, when we feel a sense of loss or sadness, or loneliness, we feel as though no one else can understand us, no one else has ever felt the same way."

Harry snorted. "Yeah? Well what would you know?"

Frodo walked forward and sat next to him on the curb. There was so much he could say, yet so little he was willing to. Some things were yet too terrible to bring to the surface. Even though the events were of years ago, he still could not force himself to speak of them. So instead, he choose an event he had long ago overpowered the darkness of and that fit the cause well enough.

"I lost my parents when I was very young, only a few years younger than yourself, I believe. They drowned, and afterward I went to live with my aunts and uncles and cousins, who saw to it that _I_ learned to swim."

Harry kicked at a few small rocks on the road. "At least you knew your parents. At least you have some memory of them."

"Perhaps…," said Frodo. "But perhaps it isn't a blessing. You never knew your parents, Harry, you don't remember them. I remember my parents very well; their images, their scents, times of joy we shared…but while I have what you say is a blessing, is it truly better? I can miss what I once had, wish I still had it, but you, with no memory of your life with them, can only long for what you wish had never been taken from you and loathe the person that took them."

Harry was said nothing, and continued to kick at the stones as if they were incredibly interesting. He wasn't planning on saying anything else, when the next sentences suddenly rushed from him.

"My godfather was killed at the beginning of June. He was the closest thing to a father I've ever had."

All Frodo could say was, "I'm sorry." He thought of Bilbo, and how he had lovingly adopted him and accepted him as not only a nephew, but as a son. Frodo remembered how he had felt when Bilbo had left for Rivendell so many years ago, and again how he had felt as he watched the gray ship carry his uncle away across the sea. He thought to speak of this, but didn't think it could match the pain Harry must be feeling. So, having nothing more to say, the two merely sat there, each lost in his own thoughts of the past.

The temperature had dropped quickly for a warm summer night, and Frodo shivered against the chill. It had also grown darker and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something was not right here…

Harry had noticed it too, he stood up and pulled out his wand. "Frodo, go inside," he ordered.

"What's going-" but that's when it happened. A frigid, icy cold swept over him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, a white fog swam before his eyes and they rolled back into his head. As if from far away, he thought he heard Harry yelling at him to move, but he couldn't. He felt his legs give way and he collapsed, and that's when he heard it.

A whip cracked. "Take that ya little rat! Ought ta teach ya a lesson about spyin' on the Master!" Crack! Yellow teeth and claws swam before his eyes, pain stung his neck and side. "Where is it? Where is it!"

"Please, please, I don't know!"

Crack! "Speak up, ya scum!" Crack! "Yer goin' ta pay fer lyin'! Who else was there! Where's the elf warrior!"

"There is no one…please, I came alone…I know nothing, I was lost…"

Crack! "Yer gonna wish you was never born, yeh Shire-rat! Yer goin' straight to the Great Eye now!"

When Frodo came to his senses he first realized that he was being held. He kept his eyes closed, for he felt sick and weak, but heard a door open and a shrieking gasp. "Arthur! What happened?"

"Dementors, Molly, about two dozen outside of Arabella Figg's house. Harry and Frodo were attacked. Harry managed to hold them off, I heard him shouting and ran outside and did the first thing I could think to do and turned a stick into a portkey back here. I grabbed Frodo and told Harry to grab on. We barely made it."

Frodo groaned just as several pairs of footsteps could be heard entering the room.

"Dementors? But, Arthur, what are they doing back there?"

"I don't know, Molly, maybe he expected Harry to come back and sent them there for when he did…"

"But, Arthur, why would he send dementors? I mean…wouldn't he want to, to do the job himself?"

"I don't know, dear."

Frodo felt himself being moved again, and tried desperately not to vomit. He was set down on a soft bed, and a good thing too, for as soon as he was he bent over the side and retched. His mind clouded and he tipped forward, but was pushed back my firm hands.

"Easy, Mr. Frodo, you'll be all right."

"Sam…"

Frodo felt a cool cloth on his forehead and a hand took his. "I'm here, sir, your Sam's right here."

"Will he be all right?" said Pippin in a worried voice. Merry stood concerned at his side.

Aragorn nodded. "Frodo has had a terrible experience, but he will be all right by tomorrow morning."

Before Merry could ask _what_ terrible experience Frodo had endured, more footsteps were heard and Gandalf entered the crowded room.

"Thank goodness, Frodo. How is he?" the wizard questioned.

Molly Weasley's voice was heard, "He'll be all right, he's just had a dementor encounter, Ginny, get some chocolate, and make sure it hasn't been tampered with by Fred or George!"

"Sam…Sam…they've taken it…" Frodo said shakily. "Taken everything…"

Sam's eyes widened and he turned to Gandalf. "What's he talking about? What's happened to him?" he asked worriedly.

Gandalf sighed. "Frodo will be fine, Samwise. He has only had to relive his worst memory," he explained.

Sam's worried demeanor changed quickly to anger and defense. "Only? Only! Think of what he's been through! Think of what that could've been!"

"I am sorry, Samwise, I only meant that he was not in any physical danger," Gandalf justified.

But Sam, angry that his master had been put through such mental torment, whirled on the wizard, clearing forgetting his place, but not caring.

"This is all YOUR fault! If you hadn't come along and put him up to this, this wouldn't have happened!" he ranted, shaking in anger.

Legolas, who had been standing in the corner of the room, strode gracefully over to the flustered gardener and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Be at peace, my friend. Frodo's fate will not be dark. This task he has chosen will not be his downfall."

Yet Gandalf shook his head and there was sorrow in his eyes. "No, you are right, Samwise. I will send both you and Frodo, as well as Merry and Pippin should they choose to, home tomorrow morning. I was wrong to have involved Frodo in this."

Sam nodded, satisfied, as Gimli grunted from his spot next to the window. Despite his indifferent outlook, he cared deeply for the former Ringbearer and was also concerned for his well-being.

"No."

All eyes turned to Frodo. His eyes were open, revealing the sparkling blue orbs, and he was sitting up slightly on the pillows.

"What?" said Sam, eyes wide.

"I'm staying here," Frodo said firmly.

"But, Mr. Frodo-"

"No, Sam, I told Gandalf I would do this, despite whatever danger, and I won't turn back now."

"If you're sure, Mr. Frodo, then I'm stayin' too," said Sam.

"And me," said Merry, while Pippin nodded.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny appeared in the doorway, the last carrying a large piece of chocolate, which she gave to her mother.

Ron grinned at Harry, who hadn't left the room. "Welcome back, mate."

Harry walked toward them and the four of them left the room.

"Eat this, dear," said Molly.

Frodo, too drained to argue, took a small bite and felt warmth come back to his body. His eyelids drooped and he laid back down. Molly could be heard shepherding everyone out of the room, and he knew that the only one remaining was Sam, who tenderly placed the quilt over him.

"It was the Orcs, Sam, in Cirith Ungol. That's what I saw," he said as he began to drift off.

Sam stopped, and took his master's hand again. "They're gone now, sir. There's naught left of them but memories."

"Yes, Sam, just a memory…" he said, and was taken by the secure grip of sleep, and that night, for the first time since he had arrived, Frodo did not dream.

TBC

A/N: I thought I'd let you know that it may be awhile until I have Chapter 7 written and posted. I have several things to clarify with Animagus-Spirit, and then I have to figure out how I'm going to write those things, and then I have to write it, and then I have to post it...So, just some forewarning...I think it will be worth the wait though...


	7. Truth and Lies

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

A/N: Here's chapter seven! (Finally.) Again, I'm really sorry it took me so long to post, but I really hope the actualy text makes up for it. It's the longest chapter yet, and here the real conflict begins to unfold...

Now, to my wonderful reviewers:

lovemehatemejustdon'tfearme- Like the new name BTW. Poor Frodo indeed. Too bad this is only the beginning….Ron rocks, he's one of my fav HP characters and really fun to write.

Inwe Telemnar- At least I'm improving and not worsening, eh? Vernon's done for the fic, yep. Thanks for the review!

LATMC- I certainly hope this is worth the wait. Yes, Harry snaps a lot, and that's why he's so annoying. (At least in my opinion) Sometimes I just want to rip his head off, you know? LOL. The whole TV thing was just the humor before it got, um, unhumorous? Will Frodo tell Harry what he remembered…hmm, never really thought about it. Good idea though! I'll see if that fits in anywhere in the future.

Infallallthingsaremadesplended- Thank you! I hope you like this chapter!

coolmarauders- Scary? Perfect! Here's more!

LGM- Are any of the other Order members descendants of any HP characters? Perhaps… just perhaps. : )

Dracula555- Funny thing, I originally had Pippin saying "Me too," but for some reason or another I changed it. LoL, obviously I should have let it be. I would never kill Remus! That would be my two favorite HP characters dead. Or would it… hint hint

eresseabound- Every time I see a movie or read a book, I usually have no problem connecting it with something else. Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings were two of those things that just fit. Anyway, you can't imagine how appreciative I am of your review. I absolutely love your stories as well. (Hope my reviews don't scare you…) LOL. Ah! In answer to your question, I give you a definite YES! We wouldn't have much of a story if Frodo didn't do more than assist Harry. Besides, you absolutely have to have Frodo angst, right? True for me at least. By the way, you reviewed at precisely the right time. I've been in a slump awhile and needed something to push me to write the next chapter, so thanks!

Celebwen Telcontar- It actually took me awhile to choose a "worst memory" for Frodo. My first thought was of the attack on Weathertop, but although that would undoubtedly have been terrible, the times in Mordor were most likely worse. I actually did consider using the memory of the Ring taking over Frodo. The reason I did not was that during the last days in Mordor, from my POV at least, Frodo was already very much taken by the Ring. He wasn't completely his own mind anymore, and the Ring actually completely overpowering him was both a small step (well, I guess a big one as well, depends on how you look at it) and considering the state he was in, I don't think (again, this is me) he could stop and think that, oh no, it's happened. Then again, maybe he could. I am no Tolkien Scholar, you know. As for the other two memories, Gollum biting off Frodo's finger doesn't, in my opinion, seem that terrible compared to what else he's gone through, and Bilbo sailing away without him, although Frodo would be undoubtedly saddened, he knows he'll see Bilbo again. As for Mrs. Figg's cats, they're there. I mentioned in I think chapter five that Frodo "saw a cat dart out of sight around a corner." I didn't say much else about them, because if they're anything like my cat Amber, they stay out of sight when there's strangers around. Thanks a lot for the review, you pointed out several good points.

Suuki-Aldrea- Glad you like it! Here's more!

Callisto Star- Yes, as he says in this chapter, Frodo did notice the Dementor's resemblance to the Nazgul. Here's more!

Chapter 7: Truth and Lies

When Frodo awoke, the first thing he noticed was that Pippin was slumped in a chair next to his bed. He couldn't help but grin at the sight. This was Sam's doing, obviously. He tried to suppress a chuckle; he really felt fine, after all, better than the night before, the events of which he still did not understand.

His stirring awoke Pippin, who opened one eye, saw that his cousin was awake and then sat up and opened the other one.

"Frodo!" he exclaimed. "How are you feeling?"

Frodo smiled. "I feel fine, Pippin." He looked his younger cousin over. "What are you doing here?"

Pippin flushed. "Well, Sam fell asleep around midnight, so I told him I'd keep watch. Merry wanted to, but-"

Frodo laughed. "I knew this had to do with Sam! Where is he now?"

The question was answered as the door opened and Merry entered, followed by Sam bearing a tray of food. Frodo rolled his eyes.

"Really! Sam, I must insist, this is a bit much. I'm perfectly well! Look." He stood up and walked around. "See? There's nothing wrong with me."

It was Sam's turn to flush red. "Beggin' your pardon, sir, but last night you weren't so well. If you'd rather us eat in the kitchen that can be arranged."

"What! No, really, Sam, Frodo doesn't care if we eat in here," Pippin said hurriedly.

"No, he doesn't mind at all!" said Merry, grinning.

So they ate a hearty breakfast, not at the kitchen table, but sitting on Frodo's bed. After they had eaten their fill (that is, except for Pippin who continued to finish off what was left), they sat talking comfortably, when Merry brought up the topic he, Sam, and Pippin had wondered about.

"Are you going to tell us, Frodo, what happened two weeks ago? We know what was going on, but what happened?" he asked, as Pippin and Sam looked up, interested.

"I left dinner early to look for Gandalf, and I stumbled upon Harry sitting in his room…" he began, and recounted the tale of their escape.

"So you ended up staying with this Mrs. Figg for two weeks?" Pippin asked.

Frodo nodded. "Yes, and let me tell you, it was most boring. No offense to her of course, she was very kind, but there was nothing to do but watch the TV, which was more astounding than entertaining."

"That's the box thing you told us about?" Pippin asked again.

Frodo nodded. "It is truly fascinating, the things people have come up with," he said.

A silence hung in the air, until Merry spoke up quietly. "Frodo…what happened last night?"

Sam shot him a glare, but Merry had already spoken. Frodo sat, brows furrowed. What had happened? He didn't remember much, just the cold and that terrible memory…

He looked up at Merry. "I'm not sure," he said. "I was outside with Harry and it suddenly grew very dark and cold. So cold…I felt as if I couldn't breathe; it felt as though it was inside my very heart, my soul. I was overcome with this terrible feeling, a feeling that I would never again feel joy. I think I lost consciousness, for I have no further memory of what happened."

"Did you see anything?" asked the always inquisitive (too much for his own good, really) Pippin.

"Only the vaguest shadow of an image," said Frodo. He lifted his gaze to meet Pippin's eyes. "A black cloaked figure of immense height, and no face which I could see…" he shuddered and closed his eyes. "It was so much like a Nazgul."

Concern was written on their faces, and Merry placed an arm around Frodo's shoulders. He too had nearly faced death at the hands of the Black Riders, and knew of Frodo's pain and terror of them better than the others, for he had experienced it himself. At least, he had experienced some of what Frodo had. _He_ hadn't had the Ring.

Sam looked as if he were about to say something, but Frodo said, "Don't worry about me, I am well now." He smiled. "What about you? What happened here two weeks ago?"

"We were all in the kitchen," said Merry. "Just eating and talking and such, when there was this howl, and-"

"It was bone-chilling, Frodo! Of course, you probably heard it, but, really, it made the hair on our necks stand up, didn't it, Merry?" Pippin piped in.

Merry looked slightly annoyed. "Yes, Pippin. Anyway, as I was saying, we heard the howl, and everyone became very quiet and stiff. Several faces paled, and then Molly Weasley said, "Severus! The potion!" I think she was talking to this sinister-looking man with rather oily hair. Alastor-the man with the creepy eye-shouted to seal the door and several of the wizards stood and muttered something and pointed wands at the door. Then Arthur Weasley explained about Remus being a werewolf…"

"Where was Gandalf in all of this?" said Frodo.

Pippin shrugged. "I think he was somewhere with Albus Dumbledore," he said. Then as an afterthought, he added, "Do you think he's dangerous?"

"Gandalf?" said Frodo in confusion.

"No," said Pippin. "Remus."

Frodo shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He seems to be a good man, really, and Harry also said he wasn't of any danger. Besides, I don't think the Order would have him here if he was."

Merry, Pippin, and Sam exchanged glances.

"What?" said Frodo.

Sam began gathering the breakfast dishes, as Merry said, "Well, it's just, people have been wrong in the past on things like…like trust."

Frodo's brows furrowed, and suspiciously he said, "What are you saying?"

Both hobbits shifted uncomfortably. "It's just…oh, never mind, Frodo," Merry said.

"No, tell me."

Pippin sighed. "I mean, we trusted Boromir, didn't we? And he ended up trying to take the Ring…and, and Gollum…well…"

Frodo's eyes widened. "How can you say that?" he hissed. "How can you possibly say such things, when Boromir died in your defense and Gollum is the reason the Quest was ever fulfilled!"

"Frodo, we didn't mean that, we were just trying to-"

Frodo stood up and began backing away from them, his head. "No, there are no excuses, you, how could you…" his voice shook as he moved toward the door.

Sam continued to make himself busy with the breakfast dishes. Merry stood up. "Frodo, please, we didn't mean anything like that, really, we only wanted to warn you against possible danger."

Frodo again shook his head and having reached the doorway turned and hurried from the room. He had to get out, the walls seemed to be closing in on him and a familiar darkness was threatening to engulf him. He made his way to the front door, pulled it open and stepped into warm fresh air. Breathing deeply, he slid down the door and sat against it.

He understood where his cousins were coming from, but to use such examples was so completely unlike them. Of course, he knew they didn't mean for what they had said to come across as it had, but it was just, it was just…

He sighed. He trusted Remus Lupin, werewolf or no werewolf. Naturally, he had asked Harry to elaborate more on the subject of werewolves, and now understood the consequence of the bite, but he also knew Remus had no control over what he became every full moon, and also knew that with the aid of a complicated potion, he could normally keep his mind.

Not only, he realized, did he trust Remus, but he trusted all of them. Even the frightening looking Alastor appeared trustworthy to him. Needless to say, he trusted most people easily, except for a rare few.

He lifted his eyes from where they stared at the ground and to his surprise saw Harry sitting on the curb, just as he had the night before. Still unwilling to return inside, Frodo stood up and walked down the concrete porch steps to where he sat.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully.

Harry looked up. "Hey, what are you doing out here?"

Frodo forced a laugh that wasn't as genuine as he had wanted it to sound. "Escaping my cousins," he said. Not the entire truth, but not a lie either. Harry must have sensed this, because he shot Frodo a glance and shrugged.

"Can't choose who you're related to, can you?" he said, more to himself than Frodo.

"I suppose not, but that's not always dreadful," said Frodo. "Then again, it can be, I once had some disagreeable relations that when I was younger I would have become un-related to if given the chance. They were still family, though. Who's that?"

He had glanced up by chance and looked toward the end of the street. Even at a distance, he could tell that the man approaching them was in a poor state of cleanliness, and wondered what his business here was.

Harry turned in the direction Frodo was gazing and froze. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped slightly momentarily, but then closed as his eyes narrowed in suspicion and his brow furrowed in confusion. He took out his wand and stood up.

"Frodo, would you mind going inside?" he said almost shakily.

Frodo stood up as well and shook his head. "Something's wrong here," he said.

"Frodo, please."

Again, the stubborn hobbit shook his head firmly. "I won't leave now, not with such a strong sense of danger among us."

Harry flicked his wand. "I don't want to have to use this on you," he said.

Frodo's eyes widened but he remained persistent. "Harry, listen to me, I don't know what it is exactly, but there is something here that isn't right. I can feel it," he said with almost a note of alarm.

There was a flash of indecision in Harry's eyes, and he turned around and looked down the street. The man had paused still several yards off, seemingly confused at the scene before him. Harry looked back at Frodo, and this time Frodo saw panic and a hint of something else. Longing.

Harry's eyes pleaded with Frodo's, as if he sought to send a message that he could not send with words. As if he sought understanding in the decision he was about to make. Harry slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Frodo," he said. "_Stupefy!"_

Frodo had a brief feeling similar to that of being punched in the stomach, and then nothing.

Harry turned around to face the man who had haunted his dreams every night since June. He found himself incapable of speech, and could only stare. The man smiled, and nodded.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "H-how?" he stammered.

Sirius smiled. "I fought against its powers and it let me go."

Harry stared; it was impossible, wasn't it? Then again, no one had ever explained the veil to him, so it probably was, he didn't know, he didn't care. Here before him was Sirius, his godfather, the one he had come to think of as a father, looking no different from when he had last seen him. Except his eyes. His eyes held not the haunted look that was the result of too many wasted years in Azkaban.

"I don't understand it either, but it doesn't matter, I'm back now," Sirius said, laughing.

Harry grinned. "Come inside then, everyone will want to see you, they'll never believe-" he stopped as he saw Sirius shaking his head. "What?"

"They will not believe, Harry. Do not tell them either," he said.

"Why not?" he asked, confused.

"Would you have believed I was alive if you hadn't seen me?"

"No," admitted Harry. "But you're here, we can just go inside and show them…"

Sirius again shook his head. "There will be too many questions," he said, and paused. "I have to go, tell no one."

"Why?"

"Meet me here again tomorrow morning, before anyone else wakes. I will have something that will make everything clear to them," he said, smiling.

"Then let me go with you," Harry said.

"No, what would everyone say if they suddenly discovered you gone?"

Harry sighed. "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow morning then."

Sirius smiled. "Good-bye, Harry," he said.

"Bye, Sirius."

He watched until Sirius was completely out of sight and then turned and walked back to Frodo.

"_Ennervate!"_

Frodo blinked, looked around, sat up and groaned. "What did you do to me?"

Harry sighed. "I stunned you, but I had my reasons. Let's go back inside."

"Harry, I don't know what happened just now, but there is evil at work, someone untrustworthy is near," Frodo again insisted.

"Yeah," said Harry, "Kreacher."

"No, something greater…I feel we're being watched."

"We're fine!" Harry said matter-of-factly.

Frodo shook his head, and tried to make Harry see what he was obviously blind to. "No, we're not!" he said firmly.

Harry paused. "So you think I should tell someone?"

"Again, I do not know what just transpired, but judging by your actions it must be of some importance, so yes, I suggest you inform someone you greatly trust."

Harry still looked unsure, but nodded nonetheless.

"Now, let's go inside before we worry anyone," Frodo said.

Harry knocked on the slightly open, wooden door. "Professor Lupin?"

Remus looked up from the book he was reading and smiled when he saw Harry. "I'm not your professor anymore, Harry," he said lightly.

Harry smiled in return; he'd felt much more cheerful since that morning. "Just habit, I guess," he said.

There was an uncomfortable silence following the light words. Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"What's on your mind, Harry?"

Harry looked up quickly. "Nothing, really," he said.

Remus raised an eyebrow.

Harry cast about for something, anything to avoid the topic he had come to speak about. He had taken Frodo's advice to tell someone he trusted of the events that had unfolded earlier. He wondered why he had, but assumed it was because, in truth, Frodo had made some sense. Although he had no idea what had happened, maybe it was wise to listen to his claims that there was something wrong about the situation. In a way, Harry felt it too, but was not as much in tune to the feeling. Still, he didn't know where to begin, or whether or not he even truly wanted to tell Remus of the reappearance of his godfather.

"It's just, well…I guess you know about Kingsley," he said, thinking he must sound incredibly stupid. Of course Remus knew about Kingsley, he was a member of the Order.

Remus's face fell and he placed the book on a table next to the chair he was sitting in. "Yes, and I wish there wasn't anything for me to know."

Harry nodded.

"Has anyone heard about Tonks and Mundungus?"

"Mad-Eye visited them in St. Mungo's just this afternoon. They're recovering well and should be back soon."

Again, Harry nodded, and again, there was silence.

"You didn't come here tonight to talk to me about Kingsley Shaklebolt, did you?" Remus said.

Harry sighed and shook his head.

Remus looked slightly concerned, but gestured for Harry to sit down, walked to the door and closed it. He returned to his chair that Harry was now sitting across from.

"Now what's really on your mind?" he asked worriedly.

Harry looked up.

Harry cast about for the best way to put it, realized there wasn't one, and decided if he was deemed crazy it wouldn't be the first time and Lupin would believe him in time.

He took a deep breath. "You won't believe this," he said, "but Sirius is…he's alive."

He glanced up to see Remus looking at him in confusion. "Harry…what…" he said.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I saw him this morning, I swear. He talked to me, he said he fought the veil's powers, and it let him go. He told me not to tell anyone, because they wouldn't believe me, and said he had an easy way to explain it to everyone…" he blurted.

Remus shook his head, "Harry, Harry, I don't know. Doesn't it seem strange to you, that Sirius should just come walking up the street after being dead for a month and then leave?"

"He said he didn't want to stay because there would be too many questions," Harry insisted.

"Harry, don't you think Sirius would have enjoyed the attention?" Remus said knowingly.

"I don't know!" said Harry. "Maybe you change a bit after dying, or nearly dying, or whatever happened!"

Remus was silent.

"You don't believe me," said Harry, crestfallen.

Remus shook his head. "I didn't say I didn't believe you, Harry. I said it doesn't seem possible, and it certainly doesn't seem like Sirius from what you've told me."

"It was him!" Harry nearly begged. "I was there, I saw him, I talked to him. He knew what had happened."

"Many people know what happened, Harry. It would not have been difficult for an imposter to find out what they needed."

His eyes met Harry's, who shook his head. "No. It was Sirius. I know it was."

Remus felt Harry's sincerity, and saw it in his eyes. It was, of course, possible that he was correct, but not probable. Remus was experienced in the ways of magic and the Dart Arts, and could think of many ways Harry could be fooled into believing any type of illusion.

"You may be right, Harry," he said. "But I don't know, it's too simple."

"Have you ever wanted to believe something so badly, you put all your mind to it and forced yourself to?"

Remus's eyes met Harry's and held his gaze. Still he saw the genuineness there, the honest certainty that, yes, Sirius _was_ alive, but nonetheless Remus could not be persuaded. Yet he could not compel Harry to believe anything else. He had it set in his mind that all he had seen and been told was real, and he knew no other truth, despite what impulses of the heart may be telling him. Even knowing all of this, Remus could not crush any hopes and beliefs Harry had, despite how implausible they may be.

Remus nodded. "I think I know what you're trying to say, Harry, but I am still unsure. The matter is up for discussion."

"Professor, please, don't tell anyone," Harry said, almost desperately.

Remus considered his options. To tell the Order would be the wise thing to do, but in doing so he would lose Harry's trust, which at the moment was terribly valuable. He resolved to tell them eventually, but only if the matter proved a threat. "All right, Harry, I promise to keep quiet, but you must promise me you will not speak with Sirius anymore, at least not until I better understand what the situation is."

"Okay, fine," said Harry, almost too quickly. Remus again raised an eyebrow. "I promise."

"That's better," said Remus.

Harry stood up. "Thanks, Professor," he said.

Remus ignored the title. "You're welcome, Harry, and remember, I'm here if you need me."

His gaze held Harry's for a moment longer, and Harry turned away. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry walked back to his own bedroom, changed into his pajamas and laid down. Tomorrow morning he would meet Sirius as planned. Lupin may not believe him now, but by tomorrow, he would.

TBC


	8. Falling Into Fantasy

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

Now, my patient reviewers...

Suuki-Aldrea- What will happen next, I wonder? Thanks for the review!

UK All The Way- Of course stupid Harry! You're absolutely right. grins evilly

Almadynis- Here's more!

LaxGoalie- Glad you're enjoying it, and thank you for adding me to your favorites list! No, it's not Sirius, unfortunately. Don't worry! Aragorn will have more of a part in the not so distant future, there just hasn't been anywhere to put him or anything for him to do yet. All right, just because you asked, I'll have some mischief making done by Fred and George and Merry and Pippin.

LATMC- You should be worried, let me tell you. Harry's not entirely stupid, he just really wants Sirius to be alive again. (Don't we all?) Then again, maybe his hopes aren't entirely false…Here's more, enjoy!

Dracula555- Uh oh indeed. evil smirk

Callisto Star- Thank you! Here's more!

to nowhere- Thrilled that you're obviously impressed and enjoying the story. Frodo angst rocks, doesn't it? Lol. Thanx for the review!

Celebwen Telcontar- blank expression Impressive. Someone who actually (I'm assuming) read the Silmarillion and remembered it all. Admittedly, I read a third of it before OotP came out, and then I forgot about it. Actually, I understand your um…opinions, and I'm glad you took the time to leave a well organized review rather than an inarticulate flame. Now, some people might call you a ranting insomniac, lol, but a more accurate description would probably be 'devoted aficionado'. I hope you don't take offense to that, it's supposed to be a compliment…

coolmarauders- Sirius is back? Hmm…maybe.

Brownie/Melody- Welcome aboard, and hang on because it's probably going to be a bumpier ride…very please you're enjoying the story. Like I've told my other reviewers many times, I cannot take full credit for this story. I've done all the writing, but probably 95 of the plot was created by Animagus-Spirit. (See first chapter for more details.) Anyway, thanks for your review. I hope you like this chapter just as much as the rest!

eresseabound- Is it Sirius indeed…

I want to thank all of you for waiting so patiently, I promise the next chapter will be up much, much sooner!

Chapter 8: Falling Into Fantasy

The chill and gray darkness of early morning found Harry sitting on the street corner, alert and impatient. He struggled to see through the dense fog that seemed to hang in the air like a wool blanket. The atmosphere was again bleak and wet, quite unlike the previous year, when the season had been blazing and the rays of the sun beat down. Even though it was yet a mere thirty minutes until sunrise, Harry highly doubted there would be much of a sun to see.

Hearing footsteps, Harry stood up. He peered forward into the gloom, and saw the silhouette of a man moving toward him. A moment later, Sirius emerged from the murk.

"Hello, Harry," he said, smiling.

Harry grinned. "Hey, Sirius."

Sirius glanced quickly around, as if to make sure they were alone. He lowered his voice. "Listen, Harry, I can't stay long, I'll explain later. But here," he reached into the pocket of the large, shabby overcoat he was wearing and pulled out a bottle made of purple glass. He handed it to Harry.

Harry looked at the small bottle. It appeared to be about half full of some sort of liquid. "What is it?" he asked.

"A potion. It will make everyone believe all I've told you."

"How did you get it?"

"I was quite good in Potions when I was at Hogwarts. Of course, that was before Snape was a teacher," he finished with a smirk.

"What should I do with it?"

"Pour the entire contents into a pitcher of whatever they're drinking for breakfast," he said. "Mix it. It's tasteless, so everyone will get some amount of it and never know, but the amount doesn't make any difference. Don't drink any yourself, though. "

"Everyone but Moody," Harry noted.

"They'll convince him then," said Sirius. "I have to go now. Hurry Harry, go do what I told you. I'll be back tomorrow. Goodbye."

"Bye," said Harry, although Sirius had already turned and begun striding back into the mist. Harry quickly started walking back to #12, intending to do as directed.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Soft footsteps echoed off the stone and dirt walls of the corridor. A figure stopped before the throne-like chair. His long, dirty black hair fell into his eyes as he bowed before the man seated upon it.

"It is done, My Lord. I have given Harry Potter the poison and he will soon be administering it to those who dwell in the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

"You have done well," said Voldemort. "Return to Grimmauld Place and wait for him. He will come running when he sees what the potion does to his…friends. You did ascertain to tell him that he must not take any himself?"

"Yes, My Lord, as you commanded."

"Good. Once Potter is within my grasp you will be rewarded, for Lord Voldemort always rewards those who do what he asks."

"It was your ingenious mind, My Lord, that wrought this infallible plan," the man said, bowing again.

"Enough," Voldemort commanded. "Now, go, and do not return without Potter, or the consequences will be far worse than you can imagine."

"Yes, My Lord," he said, and bowed one last time before departing to do as he had been ordered.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Harry crept stealthily into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasly had been temporarily distracted from setting the table by a timely dungbomb that was dropped in the hallway.

Harry quickly moved to the pitcher of orange juice and poured half of the clear liquid into it. Just to be safe, the other half he emptied into the tea kettle. He stirred them both a bit with a wooden spoon he had found on the counter, then sneaked out the door and was back in his room before Ron had completely waken up.

"Morning, mate," yawned Ron, rubbing his eyes. "Wha's for breakfast?"

Harry shrugged. "I was just about to go down now."

"Right," said Ron. "Be down in a minute then."

Harry left the room, went down the stairs and entered the kitchen, faking a yawn and rubbing his eyes. "Morning, Harry dear," said Mrs. Weasly with an edge of irritation. The rancid smell from the dungbomb still hung thickly in the air. _Sorry, Mrs. Weasly, _he thought.

Harry was the only other person in the room, and Mrs. Weasly was still putting the finishing touches on breakfast, every now and then muttering something about abominations in the family causing mayhem everywhere they go and destroying everything they laid hands on. He had to look away to hide his laughter.

A few minutes later, as Mrs. Weasly was placing bacon on the table, Ron and Hermione tramped into the room. They were followed a few minutes later by Merry, Pippin, and Gandalf. Frodo, Sam and Legolas followed Remus and Mundungus.

Harry sat, perched on the edge of his seat as each person sat down. He was extremely alert, almost jumpy with anticipation. His senses felt enhanced; he was aware of every sound, sight, smell, and touch. The sound of Mrs. Weasly setting the jug of orange juice on the table, along with the tea kettle sounded like thunder. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Frodo as he poured the steaming liquid into the delicate china in front of him. Like a hawk watching a mouse, Harry watched intently as the hobbit lifted the cup to his lips and delicately took a drink of the corrupt tea. He could almost see it sliding down his throat and into his stomach. With barely containable patience, he waited. He did not have to wait long.

Within seconds, Frodo's faced paled drastically and sweat broke out on his brow. The hobbit let out a choked cry and began to shake, then slid sideways off the chair. Instantly Sam was on the floor beside him as everyone else at the table leapt to their feet, shouting orders to one another or gasping in fear.

It was Legolas that saved him. With the quickness only an elf could posses, he knelt beside the hobbit and turning him forward, he placed his long finger down Frodo's throat, causing him to vomit the contents of his stomach, thus ridding himself of the poison that was within him. The hobbit collapsed, exhausted, in the elf's arms.

A hand rested on Legolas's shoulder. He looked up to see Aragorn standing above him, smiling gratefully but looking worried. "You have done well my friend," he said, and knelt beside the elf.

"It was you who taught me such things," the elf replied.

Nodding, Aragorn lifted Frodo into his own arms and studied the pale complexion and sweat-ridden body. "None of you eat or drink anything in this room," he said, and stood and carried the hobbit to his room and laid him on the bed, still unmade. He removed the vomit-drenched shirt and with a cloth wiped Frodo's clammy face before gently covering him with the soft sheets. "Oh, Frodo," he murmured. "What has befallen you now?" Footsteps were heard and several concerned faces entered the room.

"What's wrong with him?" Sam demanded, tears coursing silently down his face. Behind him, Merry and Pippin nodded, their own tears falling gently. Aragorn met Gandalf's eyes and nodded; the wizard gently closed the door.

"Frodo was poisoned," the former ranger said, causing quick inhalations of air, more like hiccups, from the hobbits. Aragorn held up a hand. "Our friend will be all right. Thanks to Legolas, most of the poison has been removed from his body. I do not know what sort of poison this is, do not know whether it was meant to kill or to weaken. Legolas, if you would bring me whatever it was he drank…" The elf nodded and left the room. "He will most likely be quite weak for a few days' time."

"Who would poison him, Aragorn?" Gimli asked.

Aragorn shook his head and looked to Gandalf, who said, "I do not believe anyone within this house would cause any harm to any of us purposefully. However," he paused and let his gaze travel to each one of them. "There are those who can be easily influenced to do something of evil."

"You believe others are working through someone in this house?" Aragorn said.

The wizard nodded. "Yes, I am afraid so. As to who, I do not know, and that is what we must find out."

"And how do you suppose we do that?" demanded Gimli.

"Each of us must shadow a member of this household. Who does not matter." Gandalf said. "Meriadoc, I want you to keep and eye on the twins. Pippin," he hesitated as if thinking. "I think you should follow Harry. As for the rest of you, it does not matter. I believe you can choose for yourselves. Yes, Samwise, you may remain with Frodo if that is what you wish."

"What about you, Gandalf?" asked Aragorn.

"I am reporting directly to Albus Dumbledore, he will better know who to suspect than I." Gandalf turned and walked to the door, but before opening it he turned. "I trust you will inform Legolas of this task." Aragorn nodded. The wizard let his gaze travel to Frodo, lying asleep on the bed. "I only wish I could be here when he wakes. I promised him he would not suffer if he agreed to join us, and it seems he has already endured too much. I feel I have not been there for him when he has needed me," he said, his voice full of remorse, and opened the door and left.

No sooner had Gandalf gone then Legolas entered, carrying the tea kettle in one hand and a tray of food in the other. "Forgive my delay," he said. "Molly bid me to bring you some food. She has just prepared some more, and I am sure it is edible, for she allowed no one else in the kitchen and I carefully observed her actions."

Aragorn nodded his approval. "I trust your decisions, Legolas, hannon le." He took the kettle from the elf and removing the lid looked into its contents. As he had suspected, there was nothing obviously wrong about the tea. "I will examine this the best that I can," he said. "As for the rest of you, Frodo needs quiet, you can dine in the kitchen, or if you would prefer, in Merry and Pippin's room." The hobbits, Merry and Pippin that is, nodded, for their room was closest to Frodo's should he need anything. "You as well, Sam. Frodo will be all right without you for awhile. You can return here when you have eaten," he paused and looked directly into the stout hobbit's eyes. "And only then, Sam." The said hobbit nodded, though unwillingly.

As the others began to leave to eat, Aragorn turned and laid a hand on Frodo's brow. "I will find who did this to you, my friend, I promise you, and he will be punished."

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Harry burst through the front doors of Number 12 and sprinted down the street, stopping only at the corner. "SIRIUS!" he shouted. "SIRIUS!"

In answer to his calls, Sirius stepped from behind a nearby building. "Hello, Harry," he said calmly.

Harry stared at him, in disbelief. A moment ago rage and confusion had coursed through his body. Now, seeing Sirius before him he was taken aback. He had not expected the man to answer his summons, but now that he had, all anger left him. "You-you've been here? The whole time?"

Sirius nodded. "Yes, waiting for you. I knew you'd need answers."

Harry studied him. Something stirred deep within him, some inner alarm that was telling him, trying to tell him at least, that things weren't right, but he couldn't bring himself to listen to it. From a clump of nearby bushes, Pippin observed the scene before him with intense curiosity. What was going on here?

"I don't understand," Harry said.

"The weakness is just and unpleasant side effect of the potion. They'll all be well soon, and with renewed thoughts. But I advise you to come with me."

"Where?"

Pippin crept closer so to better hear the conversation that was transpiring.

"To find Pettigrew and turn him in. Then I need not worry about hiding. I just almost lost my life and I have decided to enrich it and really live again, and I need that rat to do so."

"You mean to go to Voldemort?" said Harry, entirely taken aback.

"Yes."

Pippin felt his eyes widen and wondered if he should turn back to get one of the others, but he found himself unable to move from his post.

"How do you know where it is?"

"I studied the movements of Death Eaters and found it." Sirius said. He began walking away and then turned around. "Are you coming?"

For the first time since seeing Sirius again, Harry began to have doubts. He paused just a moment, but then nodded. "I'm coming."

"Harry, no!"

Both Harry and Sirius jerked around. Pippin had leapt out of the bushes and stood on the sidewalk, staring at them both.

"Who is this?" demanded Sirius in a manner too frightful to be inconspicuous.

"Harry, please, it isn't right!" the hobbit shouted.

Harry looked from Pippin to Sirius and then back to Pippin. "Pippin, what-"

"You've been blinded by grief! Frodo was poisoned, Harry, poisoned!" he pleaded.

"Don't talk about things you don't understand! Locomotar Mortis!" Pippin's legs snapped together and he fell over, his head slamming on the hard concrete and knocking him unconscious.

"Come on, Harry," said Sirius. Harry took one last look at Pippin, then turned and ran after his godfather.

TBC!


	9. Finding and Forgiving

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

For my reviewers...

LaxGoalie- Lol, I've always thought Harry was a bit of an idiot really…anyway, glad you don't consider Scars as "boring and pointless". I've honestly never read a crossover, which doesn't really make sense to those who know me well, but it's been fun writing this. Again, I can't take credit for most if not all the plot--have to give that to Animagus-Spirit. However, when actually writing it, it _is_ hard to make sure I'm not forgetting characters. Thanks for the review!

LATMC- Wow--what a great review! Thanks a lot! It means a lot that you'd "never stop reading it." That's probably a good thing, lol. Pippin's great isn't he? I've always had a soft spot for him, but don't we all? He's such a sweetie, lol. Hmm…Sirius, or not? The answer to this is somewhere within the next 3 chapters, thought I'd let you know. Thanks again, you should leave more long reviews, they're always nice!

Callisto Star- Lol, I'm glad I'm getting a good reaction from my readers!

Chapter 9: Finding and Forgiving

It was dark when Pippin awoke. His head throbbed terribly and there was dry blood on his forehead. He groaned, and wondered how long he had been lying there. _Surely everyone has noticed I'm gone by now, _he thought. Not wanting to worry them further, he tried to stand up, but his legs remained locked together. That was the moment he remembered. "Harry!" he gasped aloud, unintentionally. Realizing he had to inform the others of what had happened, he lifted himself on his arms and began to drag himself back toward number twelve. The going wasn't easy, but Pippin refused to stop. Who knew how long it had been since Harry had left with--who was that anyway?

Slowly and painstakingly, Pippin dragged himself down the sidewalk. After what felt to him like hours, he reached the steps outside of Number Twelve. He rested for a few minutes, then began to pull himself up the stairs. It took a quarter of an hour, but he eventually reached the door, lifted his arm and knocked. There was silence, and the he heard footsteps and the drawing back of the lock. Remus Lupin saw nothing at first, then looked down and saw Pippin lying on the ground, looking up a him.

"Pippin!" Remus said. "Everyone's been worried about you. What happened?"

"Remus, Harry, he's-"

Remus lifted Pippin by the arms, pulled him inside and shut the door. It took him only a moment to undo the curse, and Pippin was soon standing on his own legs, although still holding onto the wall for support

"What about Harry?" said Remus, concern etched into every feature.

"He's, he's…gone," gasped Pippin.

Remus grabbed his arm and led Pippin into the kitchen where he collapsed into a chair. The only other people present were Aragorn and Molly, who immediately moved to Pippin's side, Molly Weasly conjuring a glass of water for the parched hobbit to drink.

Aragorn laid a hand on Pippin's shoulder and made the hobbit look at him. "Pippin, can you see clearly? Are you dizzy at all?"

"A little dizzy, Aragorn, but just a little, I'm fine," Pippin insisted.

Molly handed Aragorn a wet cloth, and the king proceeded to wipe the dried blood from the hobbit's forehead and hair. There was a rather nasty gash, but not a deep one, and he wasn't too worried. "Tell us what happened, Pippin," he said to the hobbit.

"I was following Harry like Gandalf told me to, he went outside and down the street a ways. I hid behind some bushes so he wouldn't know I was there. He shouted something, a name a think, I can't remember what, I-"

"What's this, Aragorn? Gandalf told Pippin to 'follow' Harry?" said Molly with a hint of anger or suspicion.

Aragorn nodded. "As I told you and the others, someone put poison in the drinks at breakfast. Gandalf did not believe that anyone within this house would have done it unless influenced by someone from the outside. He wanted us to each observe a member of this household and find out what we could."

"All right then, continue dear," she said, although now her face was fixed with worry.

Pippin swallowed. "A man stepped out from behind one of the buildings. He and Harry seemed to know each other. He-"

Remus paled. "What did he look like, Pippin?"

The hobbit closed his eyes. "He was thin, had long black hair and blue eyes…no, gray eyes."

Remus's eyes locked with Molly's and she gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Who is he?" Aragorn asked.

Remus shook his head. "It would appear to be Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, but-"

"He's dead, Remus!" exclaimed Molly. "You were there, how, how can he be-"

"I don't know, Molly," said Remus. "Harry came to me last night and told me he had seen Sirius and spoken to him. I tried to advise him against speaking to the man again, because I felt that Harry was being fooled, because how could he be alive? Harry promised me he wouldn't, but I should have known he would anyway. I then promised Harry I would not tell anyone else what he had told me, but I feel now that I should have."

Tears stood in Molly's eyes, waiting perhaps for confirmation of her fears before falling. Remus gestured for Pippin to continue.

"Harry said he didn't understand something, and the man said the weakness was a side affect of the potion. Then he-"

"What are you saying, Pippin?" demanded Aragorn, voice sharp. "Are you saying Harry poisoned Frodo?"

Pippin nodded. "That's what it sounded like. The man said they would be well in a few days. I guess everyone was supposed to drink it. Then he told Harry to come with him, to find someone named Pettigrew I think. Harry agreed to go with him, and I tried to stop him, I really did, Aragorn, but he did something with his wand and I couldn't move my legs and I fell. That's all I remember."

Remus grabbed the hobbit's shoulders. "Where Pippin? Did they say where they were going?"

"He never said where exactly, just to Voldemort."

Molly shrieked and fell into a chair, unable to stand. Remus paled another shade. "This is my fault. I should not have left what I knew unspoken. I could have prevented this…"

"I doubt you could have stopped Potter anyway, he's always had a disregard for rules." Severus Snape stepped into the kitchen. "Clearly Potter has been fooled to believe that Black is alive. A metamorphmagus is my clearest guess. Or a Polyjuice Potion. Whichever, Potter has now been lured to Voldemort," he said with finality.

"A fact we have concluded, Severus," said Remus, standing up. "If you could make yourself useful and send an owl to Dumbledore, it would be appreciated."

Snape scowled and turned on his heel. "Very well," he said, and swept out of the room.

Molly attempted to stand up. "I have to send notice to Arthur," she said.

Remus held her arm. "I'll do that, Molly. Go lie down, I'll bring you some tea in a moment."

"He's been so busy at the Ministry, I hate to have to send him bad news…"

"It will be taken care of," Remus said, and led her out of the kitchen and toward the stairs.

"I have to tell the children, they've been wondering where he is…"

"I'll tell them everything. Everything will turn out all right, Molly, it will," he said, trying to calm her, although he didn't know how much truth his words spoke.

"No! Stop it Remus, really! I'll never be able to sleep anyway, I'll, I'll-" she broke down sobbing, and Remus led her back to her chair and flicked his wand at the stove. Presently, a steaming cup of tea was in Molly Weasly's hands.

"Aragorn, if you could help me assemble the others…" Aragorn nodded and he and Remus left the room. Within five minutes the entire Order (excluding Mundungus and Tonks, Snape, and Dumbledore), Hermione, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny, and the Fellowship, (excluding Gandalf and Frodo) were all either sitting or standing in the kitchen, looking anxious. Remus quickly recounted what Pippin had told him, causing Hermione to gasp and then place a comforting arm around Ginny and Molly and Ron to pale, accenting his freckles. Fred and George looked as if they had both been slapped.

"All we can do," said Remus, "is wait. Severus has sent an owl to Dumbledore, and there is nothing we can do until he arrives. We know nothing of where Voldemort now is; he has changed locations since the capture of Kingsley, Mundungus, and Tonks. There is no action we can possibly take, and I advise all of you not to do anything to endanger yourselves." He looked mainly at Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George as he said this. "This is hard on all of us," he said. "But there's nothing we can do."

No one said anything. Hermione wiped tears from her eyes and Ginny emitted a small sob. "It's late," said Remus. "I want all of you to try and sleep. Perhaps by morning we will have an answer."

They all nodded solemnly, not even a protest came from Ron, and stood and left, each going off to his or her own bedroom, shoulders sagging in defeat and loss. Pippin swayed as he tried to stand, and Merry grabbed his arm and led him back to their room, Sam following behind. Only Aragorn and Remus remained in the kitchen. "You did well, my friend," said Aragorn, clasping Remus's shoulder. Remus nodded sadly, then turned and proceeded upstairs to send an owl to Arthur. Aragorn first checked to see how Frodo was faring, then he, too, retired.

Sam had long ago dozed off during his vigil over Frodo and been moved by Aragorn to his own bed, when the latter hobbit began to dream. But these dreams were different than the ones he had recently been having. These dreams were of Harry, locked in some form of cell and enduring tortures beyond the imagination of many. Frodo's mind was in torment, and every pain inflicted on the young wizard he felt, yet he did not make a sound or do anything more than flinch. Although Sam was oblivious to his master's distress, Pippin somehow felt Frodo's agony. Perhaps it was the weakened state of both, but Pippin was awoken from troubled dreams by some inner pull, and moved from his bed to Frodo's room. He took his cousin's hand and managed to pull him from his deep slumber.

Drowsily, Frodo opened his heavy lids and looked upon the face of his cousin. "Pippin..." he whispered.

"I'm here, Frodo," Pippin said.

"Harry's been…taken by him, by…Voldemort," Frodo croaked weakly.

Pippin nodded. "I know, Frodo, I was there. I tried to stop him, but I couldn't. I'm sorry."

Frodo shook his head. "It isn't…your fault, Pippin. Do the…others know?"

The other hobbit nodded. There was a long pause, and Pippin said. "Frodo, yesterday, what me and Merry said, well, we didn't mean it, we really didn't. We just, we're afraid, Frodo. We don't know what's going to happen, or who to trust. I can speak for Merry as well, we're sorry, Frodo, so sorry."

"It is…forgotten, Pippin. I know you…and Merry would…never mean such things…tell him you are forgiven…"

"Whatever you ask, cousin."

"What…happened to me…today? It's all a…a blur in my mind."

"You were…poisoned, Frodo."

"Poisoned? By who?"

"Harry did it, but he didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know what was in the bottle. It's a long tale, Frodo, I'll tell you when you are stronger."

Frodo nodded slightly. "Stay with me, Pippin, please."

Pippin nodded and lie down beside Frodo. He kissed his brow and put an arm around his shoulder, meaning to protect him from whatever dreams chose to assail him the rest of the night.

TBC really soon! Already have the chapter written, so the faster you review then the soonerI post!


	10. The Search

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. You're the greatest!

To my reviewers...

UK All The Way- I think I know exactly what happened. Before I posted the actual Chapter 8, I had an Authors Note posted as that chapter. (turns out that's illegal on this site…oops). When I posted the actual chapter of the story, I deleted the A/N, thus making chapter 8 remain but have a different text. Does that make sense? Anyway, thanks for the review you wanted to leave but weren't able to! I love hobbit angst…it's so much fun, especially Frodo. Hope you don't mind about that, because there's more to come…anyway, more to come!

LATMC- I really look forward to your reviews, thank you so much for all of your kind words! Yes, Harry has made a wrong decision, and even though it's really stupid of him, some of us would do the same thing if we were him. Animagus and myself love…loved, Sirius, he is…was one of our favorite characters, and we were totally mad when he died! (I honestly don't think he's really dead though, hopefully HBP will give us more insight to that…) But I would never EVER turn him into a HP version of Anakin Skywalker…Maybe that supplies you with clues of what's to come…maybe not. The place Harry is located was made up completely by myself and Animagus, so don't worry if you have no idea where it is! Anyway, this chapter should answer some of your questions…but not all of them. Mwahaha! Thanks again for the review, keep them coming!

Brownie/Melody- So awesome that you're enjoying it! Here's more!

Chapter 10: The Search

A knocking on his door awoke Ron. He stretched and yawned, then trudged over to his bedroom door and opened it. Hermione and Ginny pushed inside and shut the door behind them. They were still dressed in their clothes from the day before, eyes red with dark circles under them. Obviously, they hadn't slept.

Hermione studied him and glared. "You _slept?_" she said in disbelief.

Ron's ears turned pink. "Er, no…well, not purposefully at least," he said sheepishly.

Hermione sighed, then looked to Ginny, who shook her head.

"What, you think I could've gone to sleep if I'd tried?" Ron said defensively.

"No," Ginny said. "None of us could have. It'll be the same tonight, too."

"Of course it will," Hermione said. "Because tonight we're going after him."

"We're wha-" Ron began, but then nodded. "You're right, Hermione."

"We wanted to go last night," said Ginny. "But almost everyone else was up."

"Tonight then," said Ron, and Hermione and Ginny nodded.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Not much was spoken at breakfast. Everyone was either too tired or too lost in their own thoughts to speak. Except for the clinking of forks and the occasional mutter of, "Pass the pepper," there wasn't much sound.

There had been no owl from Dumbledore yet. Arthur Weasly wrote to say he would be returning home very shortly.

For Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, the seconds ticked by slowly. They sat in Ron's room along with Fred and George, attempting to play exploding snap but not enjoying it. Once, Ron opened his mouth to say something of their plans to the twins, but Hermione sensed what he was about to do and shook her head. It would be best to leave them out, she decided. The less people, the less chance of being caught…by friend or foe.

Outside, the sun struggled to shine through the clouds. It was quiet on the streets. A dog barked. A bird chirped. The day was dark, and the spirits of those inside Number Twelve were at an all-time low.

Arthur arrived just after lunch to halfhearted hellos. He tried to lift their spirits, although his attempts were without much enthusiasm on his own part.

Frodo woke again not long after that. Pippin, Sam, and Merry were seated near to him, talking quietly about home. They were, of course, delighted about his consciousness, and persuaded him to eat a little. Still too feeble to speak much, he merely contented himself with listening to the lull of their voices. It was not long until he was again sleeping soundly.

Every now and then Aragorn, Gimli, or Legolas would step in, though they would leave a moment later. Where they went and what they were doing exactly, the hobbits did not know. However, they knew it had to do with the disappearance of Harry.

Dinnertime. Again, the household ate in silence, speaking only when needed and in subdued voices. Frodo's dreams began to grow dark.

Nine o'clock. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny one at a time began to excuse themselves to retire early. They pretended to sleep when Mrs. Weasly came to check on them, then she, too, went to bed.

Ten o'clock. The clunk of Moody's leg could be heard moving up the stairs. Afterwards, the house was completely silent. Eleven. Ron tapped quietly on the bedroom door and let himself in, looking slightly pale. Frodo began to mutter and stir in his sleep. Sam placed a damp cloth on his sweaty brow and attempted to wake him, but Frodo would not be pulled from his dreams.

Midnight. Hermione began to pace, thinking of anything she'd forgotten that could possibly assist or hinder them in their cause. Frodo's eyes flew open.

"Sam."

The sandy-haired hobbit took his master's hand. "Mr. Frodo? Are you alright, sir?"

"Sam…where is Gandalf?"

His eyes were wide and fearful. They darted around the room as if searching for something.

"He- he's not here, Mr. Frodo," Sam said in concern and confusion. "He left yesterday mornin' to talk to-"

"Albus…Dumbledore…I know, Sam…of course…" Frodo panted. Clearly, the effort to speak and the distress of his mind were further tiring him in his already weakened state.

"Is there anythin' I can get you, sir?"

"Sam…please, I saw…"

"Saw what, Mr. Frodo?"

"Saw…Harry, please Sam…I know…where he is…"

Sam's eyes widened, but he had other priorities first. He slid an arm behind Frodo and helped him to sit up, then pressed a glass of water to his lips. "There now, Mr. Frodo, drink this first," he said.

Frodo drank thirstily, and his eyelids soon began to droop. He forced them open. "Sam, please…fetch Aragorn then…he'll know what…to do."

"Alright, sir, right away." After propping Frodo up on some pillows, he quickly left the room and moved softly down the corridor. It was dark, and he couldn't see well at all, but he judged he was heading in the right direction.

Thud.

"_Ouch, _Ron!" a voice hissed.

"That wasn't me!"

"_Lumos!"_ A small beam of light illuminated the hobbit, now seated on the floor and looking rather confused.

"Sam?"

"Sorry, miss, couldn't see where I was goin'," he said, standing up.

"What are you doing up?" asked Hermione.

"I was about to fetch Mr. Strider. Beggin' your pardon, but I might ask you the same thing."

"We were just…" started Ginny.

"Taking a midnight stroll," finished Ron. Hermione and Ginny stared at him. He shrugged.

Sam squinted at them. "I think I know, beggin' your pardon again, but I can relate."

"What?" asked Ron.

"If you're lookin' for Harry, I think Mr. Frodo knows something that might be of help," Sam said.

Ginny, Hermione, and Ron glanced at each other. Hermione checked her watch. "Alright," she said. "Anything's better than nothing I suppose."

They followed Sam back to the room he shared with Frodo, and found the frail hobbit remarkably, still awake. "Sam," he whispered. "Where is…Aragorn?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I ran into these three first and, well-"

"You know something about Harry?" Ron blurted.

Frodo studied him for a moment, as if judging his character, then nodded. "You mean to…find him?" he questioned. Ron nodded.

"I know…where he is, but I…cannot tell you…only…show you," the hobbit explained.

"Then how can we expect to find him!" Ron exclaimed.

"Ron! Shh!" hissed Hermione, pointing to the closed door. For a moment they all stood still, listening for sounds that would indicate whether others were awake.

"I'll…show you, somehow," rasped Frodo. "Carry me, if you must."

"Mr. Frodo-"

"Wait!" Hermione gasped. "Snape! He has potions stored in his room, he's bound to have a strengthening potion!"

"Then why didn't he give Frodo one before?" Ginny wondered aloud.

"Because he's Snape," Ron said simply.

"I'll get it," said Ginny. "Snape's gone on Order business anyway." Hermione shook her head.

"No, I will, I'll find it faster, no offense, Ginny," she said, and stole from the room before anyone could argue.

She returned a few minutes later carrying a small glass bottle. "Here it is!"

Frodo stared at in with doubt. "Are you sure?"

"Don't worry mate, she knows what she's doing," said Ron as Hermione nodded.

"Just one swallow will do," she said.

Frodo took the bottle and lifted it painstakingly to his lips. Though small, it felt heavy to him. He took a small drink and nearly spit it out, for the taste was repulsive, and swallowed reluctantly.

"It may take a moment…" Hermione said, again checking her watch.

A moment was all it took until Frodo began to feel strength returning to his body. Almost immediately he found he could breathe more easily, and he was able to sit up without the support of several pillows. He stood up slowly, and was able to keep his feet.

"That's better," he said. "Thank you."

"Glad we could help you, but we really have to leave now," said Hermione.

Frodo nodded. "If you would give me but a few moments…"

"You do know this is dangerous, right?" stated Ron.

Frodo, taking a clean shirt from Sam and putting it on over the coat of Mithril he had just donned, laughed quietly. "I know danger when I see it, Ron. I have to go with you though, you don't know where you're going…Sam, would you fetch me Sting, please?"

"It might be a problem getting out of the house," said Ginny. "I know there's some spell on the door."

"A window, then?" suggested Frodo.

Ginny considered. "That might work."

Ron walked to Frodo's window, undid the latch and slowly pushed it open. Nothing happened.

"I guess they didn't expect us to sneak out through here," he said.

"They probably assumed we wouldn't allow you to," Frodo pointed out.

Sam returned with Sting, which had been placed on the window seat since Frodo's return from Privet Drive.

"Mr. Frodo, please, sir, I don't think you should…you've been through enough already!"

Frodo turned to him and took the sword. "I have to do this, Sam. This is, more or less, what Gandalf brought me here for, is it not?"

Sam opened his mouth to argue, then decided against it. "I'm coming with you, then."

Frodo nodded. Sam quickly hurried to his own bed, from under which he pulled his own sword--the same one he had carried throughout the Quest. He paused a moment, wondering what else he should bring and made towards his pack.

"Sam," Frodo said, smiling. "We aren't going far, my friend."

Sam flushed slightly, then followed his master and the others to the open window. Frodo swayed, and Sam caught his arm to steady him. "I'm afraid I'm still a bit tired, Sam, but I'll be all right," he said to reassure his friend. The hobbits grabbed their cloaks that had been thrown carelessly over the backs of chairs.

Ron leaned out of the window and looked down. "Not a bad drop," he said. "Five or six feet, I'd say. Think if we were upstairs…" He climbed through the window and dropped down easily, followed shortly by Ginny and Hermione. It was a bit more difficult for Frodo and Sam, but they made it without too much trouble. The five of them proceeded in the darkness to the street, not daring to light their wands and relying merely on the light of distantly spaced street lamps.

"Where now, Frodo?" whispered Ginny.

The hobbit began walking in the direction that Harry and Sirius had gone the previous day. The others followed closely behind him. He reached the corner, paused a moment, and led them still straight. They continued in that direction for awhile, then, skirting around street lamps and attempting to hurry from shadow to shadow, they changed directions. They walked for another half hour, and then reached their destination.

A large cast-iron gate loomed above them. Beyond it, headstones marked hundreds of tombs.

Ron gulped. "This is it then?" he said somewhat apprehensively.

Frodo placed his hand on the gate and nodded. "Yes, within and below."

"It _is_ underground then," whispered Hermione. "I thought it would be."

"_Alohomora!_" said Ginny, and the lock on the gate sprang open. She pushed it open and stepped into the cemetery. "Come on," she said. "We're wasting time."

Ron nodded and followed his sister. Behind him came Frodo, Sam, and Hermione. They crept quietly around the headstones, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny holding their wands at the ready. Beside his master, Sam gripped his sword. Ron suddenly stopped.

"If this place is underground," he said, "how are we supposed to get down there?"

"Follow me," said Frodo, and stepped once more to the front of the group. He led them deep into the graveyard, knowing exactly where he was going, yet at the same time unsure of his destination. They followed him trustfully, knowing he was their only chance of finding Harry.

The cemetery seemed endless, and they walked for what felt like-but surely couldn't be-hours. The further they walked, the older the headstones seemed to become. Many were cracked and broken, the engravings on them weathered away. Many looked as if they hadn't been visited in years; weeds grew up around them and lichens had begun to form within their cracks. It was here that Frodo at last stopped.

The gravestone rose up above them, an angel with only one wing. Any lettering that it had borne had disappeared. Vines had crawled over the stone, causing the gray angel to look like a prisoner of some cruel enemy. One side of it's face was smashed, leaving a hollow empty of all except a lone spider on its web.

"We have arrived," said Frodo, his voice sounding entirely different than he thought it should. It was a sound from the back of his throat, low and dry. He turned to the others, and when he looked at them a shadow seemed to pass over him, and his eyes darkened and he seemed to be taken by an unknown force of some greater evil. He turned back around, laid his hand on the stone, and said, "Open."

The earth shuddered, and a great hole opened at the angel's feet. He turned again to the others, shuddered greatly and swayed on his feet. Sam came forward and Frodo clutched at his arm, sweating profusely, his face the color of parchment. He sank to the ground and laid his head on the gardener's shoulder, trembling as if it were the heart of winter, not summer. After a moment, though, the spell passed, and he was himself again. He looked up at Hermione, Ginny, and Ron, and nodded. With Sam's aid he stood, and the five of them gathered around the opening, staring down into its depths.

TBC Very soon!


	11. Of Stars and Moons

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her You're the greatest!

**A/N Again:** While I was writing this, I absolutely could not get certain parts done right, so I sent it to Animgus-Spirit and asked her to see what she could do. The result was amazing. She completely redid one scene and added another, and it was great! So, I can't take credit for this entire chapter, since she wrote a good portion of it. Her bits are identified by !A!A!. (Or I could just say the first and last scene.)

UK All The Way- Love my Frodo-angst. He won't kill himself, he'll just do worse…and I'm not talking about the dementor's kiss, either. grins evilly

coolmarauders- Hate to burst your bubble, but no dark Harry...Here's more and I hope you enjoy it?

Brownie/Melody- Thanks so much for your kind words! The chapters may flow once they're finished, but let me tell you, sometimes I just have the hardest time, which is the reason I didn't do all of this chapter, I could not get it right! Anyway, can't tell you how much I appreciate your support, hopefully this fic'll be finished by the end of the summer!

LATMC- Actually, it's not the same graveyard from Book 4, they're in two different towns. LoL. Ok, your answers about Sirius are in this chapter, or at least most of them. Voldemort doesn't know about the Fellowship...yet. I considered bringing the twins along, but too many people! All other answers to come, so keep reading, and thanks for the review!

Chapter 11: Of Stars and Moons

!A!A!

The damp walls glistened as Bellatrix Lestrange came to the call of her master. Perhaps a much loved assignment of torture awaited her. At that thought, her lips curved into a devilish grin. Remembering her last mission sent thrills through her spine. The two Muggle parents were crying out in agony as she slowly tortured their mudblood son. Served them right, breaking the purity with that scum. Entering her master's quarters she was met with a new sort of glint in his crimson gaze. As she stared into those eyes, a strange, soft, tickling sensation spread up her right leg. Quickly dropping her gaze, she noticed that it was the massive snake, Nagini harmlessly winding up her leg.

Relaxing, she felt her lord's pale, spidery fingers stroking her face. This was her lucky day. Soon she found his slit of a mouth caressing her lips. She knew this was nothing real, just lust, but she wanted it to continue. Lord Voldemort may have been incapable of a feeling such as love, yet she was still human. He was her passion, the one she was willing to devote all to. Were his tongue poison, she would still be tasting it at this moment.

Suddenly, her eyes darted to the door. Seemed they had a visitor. Rodolphus Lestrange stood gaping in the doorway as his master held his wife in his snake-like grip. He was met with a harsh glare from the fiery eyes.

"Rodolphus," hissed his lord. "You have always been everlastingly loyal to me. Do you not wish your lord to be pleased?" he teased smoothly, and ran his tongue down Bellatrix's cheek. "Lord Voldemort needs what he desires."

Rodolphus began to turn a violent shade of red, but was shaking inside. Was his envy worth displeasing his master? He hoped he had not gone too far, but indeed he had, for at the next moment, Voldemort issued an order.

Gesturing to Bellatrix, he spoke coldly. "You know what to do, Bella, my dear."

Unflinching, Bellatrix crept towards Rodolphus, wand outstretched. "Avada Kedavra."

Rodolphus was dead before his body crumpled to the floor.

"Dispose of him," ordered Voldemort.

Obediently, Bellatrix grabbed the dead body of her husband and began to drag it out. He had loved her, she knew it. Perhaps it had been a marriage of pureblood convenience, yet they had gone through everything together. Initiation, capture, imprisonment. She would have lost all of her sanity had he not been there. Sure, by now all traces of sanity had evaporated from her system, but he'd always be there.

Suddenly, soft voices met her ears, and she was jolted from her daze.

!A!A!

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

"_Lumos!"_

Beams of light from three wands illuminated the tunnel. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Sam, and Frodo exchanged apprehensive glances.

"We can't afford any wand light once we're down there," said Hermione. "We'll be too easy to find." Ron and Ginny nodded and proceeded to extinguish their wand-light. For a moment longer they hesitated, then Ron stepped forward, and sat on the edge. He looked up at Hermione.

"Just like old times. Let's just hope there's no Devil's Snare, ok?" he said shakily.

Hermione nodded and attempted to smile. "Don't shout once you're down there. Just flash some quick light so we know it's okay." Ron nodded and pushed himself off of the edge and into the tunnel. There was a few second's wait, then a beam of light from Ron's wand shone up at them. Ginny was the first to follow, and the others were close behind her.

The tunnel, in truth, was probably somewhere near thirty yards deep, and they all landed rather uncomfortably on a slightly damp, earth floor. They were silent a few moments, until their eyes became somewhat accustomed to the dark. They were in a small, circular, vacant room. Hermione stood up and walked along the wall, her hand sliding along it and her feet treading carefully.

"It goes deeper," she said. "It slopes downward just here."

Ginny looked up. "There's no ladder. How are we supposed to get back?"

"There's bound to be another exit…or, wait, there's ridges here, in the wall!"

Ron stood up and ran his hands across them. "Why didn't we see them from up there?" he said, pointing above to where the ground was putting itself back together.

"There may be a concealment charm on them, so they can only be seen from below," Hermione said.

"There's another tunnel," said Ginny. "I think it leads to another corridor."

"Which way, Frodo?" said Ron.

Frodo moved toward the tunnel Hermione stood by. "We go down," he said, and began leading them in that direction.

The ground grew damper as they walked deeper, and the décor of the tunnel became even more unpleasant. Skeletons were chained to walls, and miscellaneous bones were scattered across the ground. Torches spaced unevenly and rather far apart hung on the sides of the tunnel, allowing the company to see this.

Frodo shuddered. The atmosphere and the darkness of the tunnel served as vivid memoirs of another, more terrible lair. He felt that the walls were pressing in on him, and he had to stop and close his eyes in an attempt to block the assault of memories flooding his mind. Sam, feeling stirrings of fear himself, took Frodo's hand.

Ron gulped. "How long do you think this passageway's been here?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know. Years, perhaps. Are you sure this is the right way?" she said, already knowing the answer.

Frodo nodded, his breathing heavy. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

They advanced a few feet more. Ginny was now in the front of the group, and she suddenly let out a choked shriek and jumped back into Ron.

"What? What is--" He stopped short. The others peered around his shoulders and looked in horror at the sight before them.

A body, eyes wide open and staring at the unseen ceiling was sprawled across the corridor. His mouth was twisted in a scream, and the arch of his eyebrows suggested he had been angry before he was killed.

Hermione gasped. "It's Rodolphus Lestrange!"

"Lestrange?" whispered Ron. "Why would You-Know-Who kill _him_?"

"What makes you think _Voldemort _killed him? It could've been any Death Eater," Ginny said.

"Quiet!" hissed Frodo. He was trembling, his heart was pounding in his chest, and his eyes were wide, darting back and forth in fear. "We're being watched."

The others froze and gripped their wands. As if on cue, cruel laughter was heard, and a group of Death Eaters emerged from the shadows on both sides of the corridor. They were trapped.

"Well, if it isn't the rescue party!" sneered Avery. Frodo and Sam drew their swords. The Death Eaters laughed.

"Those won't do too well in your situation, mates," said Crabbe. "_Expelliarmus!"_ The swords and wands flew from their hands to be caught by various members of the group of Death Eaters. Sam moved to stand protectively in front of Frodo.

Bellatrix Lestrange stepped closer to them. With her foot, she kicked Roldolphus's body out of the way. She laughed at the expressions on their faces.

"Of course I killed him," she said, not a trace of regret in her voice. "I couldn't let him interfere with my…plans with the Dark Lord, could I?" The other Death Eaters roared with laughter.

"What should we do with them?" Goyle grunted.

"Lock them up! Away from the Potter boy though…and apart from each other. The tunnels here have many twists and turns, so if one escapes they cannot possibly find the others without being recaptured."

"NO!" shouted Sam.

Bellatrix laughed again and pointed her wand at him. "_Crucio!"_ Intense waves of pain hit Sam and rolled through his body. He crumpled to the ground. Bellatrix spit on him. "Do not speak to your superiors!"

Frodo fell to his knees beside his companion. "Sam!" he said worriedly.

Sam shook himself, "I'm alright, sir, don't you worry about me--"

"Take them away!" shouted Bellatrix.

Invisible cords wrapped around each of them, and they were dragged off to separate cells within the immense underground structure, despite all attempts of resistance.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

As things were slowly unraveling underground, the sun had fully risen and those asleep within Number Twelve had begun to awaken, and with this awakening they had made several devastating discoveries.

Pippin and Merry bolted into the kitchen. Gandalf had returned, and was seated at the table, conversing in low tones with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

"Gandalf!" both hobbits exclaimed, and ran over to him.

"Gandalf," Merry panted. "Frodo and Sam are gone!"

The wizard's eyes widened. "What have they done?" he muttered under his breath.

Pippin held out the nearly full potion bottle, and Aragorn took it. He studied the bottle and frowned. "A strengthening potion," he said. "But how could Frodo have gotten this? Surely Sam wouldn't have…"

Remus appeared in the doorway looking worried. "Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are gone!" he announced.

"So are Sam and Frodo," said Aragorn, meeting Remus's gaze. The wizard nodded, understanding.

"They went after Harry," he said with finality.

"Then must go after him!" said Gimli in earnest. "Are yeh with me, Legolas?"

"No," said Gandalf. "We cannot. It would be unwise considering how few of us there are in comparison to the rising amount of Death Eaters. We know nothing of their location either."

"We can't just sit here and do nothing!" shouted Merry.

"If we receive no word of them in a day we shall work on devising a plan. That is all I can say on the matter."

"Gandalf…" started Pippin.

"They are strong, intelligent, and brave, Pippin. The light of the Valar is cast upon them. We shall wait." In truth, Gandalf wished more than anything that he could himself go and search for the hobbits, but he knew it would be folly to do so.

"What if the Valar fail in protecting them?" shouted the hobbit, suddenly overcome with anger.

"There is nothing more we can do with our limited numbers. I sense the Valar are at work with them and with others. I can feel future good fortune in our midst."

"But, Gandalf, I fear for them," said Pippin, tears gathering in his eyes.

"As do I, Pippin, but have hope!" encouraged the wizard.

Merry and Pippin looked downcast, and as if hope was the farthest thing from their thoughts.

"Albus Dumbledore shall be arriving shortly, I will take counsel with him. He will know what to do. Fear not, my dear hobbit." He knelt and placed a hand on a shoulder of each hobbit, then stood and moved from the kitchen.

Aragorn embraced both Merry and Pippin at once. "I feel your fear as well," he whispered to them. "Long ago, it seems, I swore to protect Frodo, and I now swear to you, we _will _find him, and Sam as well. I will come to you tonight, and together we shall search for our friend."

The kind stood and made to follow Gandalf, but when he turned he found himself faced with Remus. "I couldn't help but overhear," he whispered, though they were the only two, besides the hobbits, still in the hall. "I feel that all of this is my fault, and I insist on coming along."

Aragorn nodded. "Meet me here at midnight," he said quietly, and returned to the kitchen.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

At midnight, while most others slept, Aragorn silently pushed open the door to Merry and Pippin's room. The hobbit's were awake, swords attached to their belts, waiting for him.

"Merry, Pippin, I advise you against this, although I feel nothing could prevent you from coming with me," he said.

The hobbit's shook their heads. "Aragorn," asked Pippin. "Why won't Gandalf help us? Why does he refuse to do anything?"

Aragorn sighed. "Gandalf would do anything to aid Frodo, you know that, but he is under immense pressure from the war he has involved us in. He worries for Frodo and regrets having brought any of you into this. His actions may seem unfair, but they are wise. None of us know where we are going, and can only rely on instinct to guide us."

Merry and Pippin nodded, and Remus Lupin slid into the room. "This is your last chance to withdraw," Aragorn said to them.

The hobbits stood firmly. "Frodo slipped away from us once, we won't let that happen again," said Merry.

"Have you any idea where they've gone?" Aragorn asked of Remus.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

A harsh, almost manic cackling emanated from the doorway. As one, the four peered through the dark room. Here the hobbits and Aragorn had their first encounter with a house-elf. Remus strode over to him and gripped his shoulders roughly.

"Where did they go, Kreacher?" he demanded.

"Kreacher knows only that they have gone, they have. To their graves, for that is where master stays!"

Remus's eyes lit up. He released the elf and stood up. "A graveyard," he said, smiling. "Ideal place, isn't it?"

"Let us go," said Aragorn. They stealthily crept back down the stairs, nearly colliding with Legolas.

"Are you going somewhere?" he said, smiling.

"I forget the acute hearing of the elves," Aragorn said, a slight grin on his face. "Though your company would be most welcome, my friend, I bid you remain here. Gimli would be furious if you were involved and not he."

The elf nodded. "I shall, but first Aragorn, I offer some advice. They would not be too far from here, and Frodo would have led them. They would not have taken a straight path, but instead would have skirted between shadows and other obstacles. You can track them, Aragorn, but make haste, time is your greatest enemy."

"Hannon le."

They left through the front door, stepped into the night, and began moving in the direction they judged (from Pippin's descriptions of where Sirius and Harry had traveled) to be the right one. Aragorn stopped every so often to search for signs of their progress, but found little in the concrete world. They were very near their destination, when Pippin suddenly stopped stock-still.

"It's him again! The man who took Harry!"

!A!A!

Remus shivered slightly as he stared at the figure. Slowly his mind seemed to open like a scrapbook replaying memories. Those sunny days relaxing by the lake after days of classes, those nights of freedom and excitement as they ran around the town concealed, and most vividly he remembered those agonizing nights of transformation. For a moment their eyes stayed locked. Deep, haunted eyes bore into him. Grinning, the man stepped towards him, but something stopped him. Trying to keep the thoughts out of his mind, Remus targeted the wand at the man's chest. Apparently taken aback, Sirius inched backwards confusedly. "Remus…" he breathed. "I can explain…"

A surge of anger shot through Remus's veins. Quivering slightly he glared at the imposter, and burst. "Can you explain! Explain why you're showing your face here after you've taken Harry to Voldemort!"

Preparing to attack, Remus suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Aragorn was staring at him, a look of worry creased on his face. Remus had never felt like this before, but he wasn't intending to stop. Brushing the king's hand off his shoulder, he prepared to attack.

An expression of pain and shock appeared on Sirius's face, and he began to breathe more quickly. "Harry's been taken to Voldemort!" he croaked hoarsely.

For an instant Remus felt something, but it disappeared. This man was a shell, he could lie through his teeth. He had no feeling, but the way he was doing this was like shoving a knife into Remus's stomach and twisting.

"If you expect me to play the fool, to be blind, like Harry, you're an even worse actor than I'd have thought!" he snapped more to himself.

Sirius ventured to speak again. "You know me!" he spoke angrily, realizing how stupid the words sounded after they were uttered.

A bolt of light shot from Remus's wand, flying right past where Sirius's head had been seconds before.

"Take me to them!" he spat.

"Remus, stop being an idiot!" snapped Sirius with new feeling. God, he was normally the rash one. "I don't bloody know where they are!"

Another spell shot out. It was unsuccessful only because Sirius had seen it coming and quickly evaded. "It's ME!" he yelled angrily.

"And who is that exactly?" spoke Remus coldly.

Sirius had to comb his brain for something. "It's not my fault what happened at the Department of Mysteries!"

This time it was Remus's turn to be taken aback.

"Voldemort led Harry there. I couldn't help! I fell into that bloody veil if you don't remember!" Pain flooded through him. He had failed. The sting was too deep. He could have died again at the moment he had heard of Harry's capture.

Disregarding this, Remus fought back. "You were here! You led Harry to believe you! Don't lie; you're wasting your breath!"

Sirius had about had it. It had never occurred to him that Remus could be such a dunce. His hand clasped his wand firmly and he outstretched it to inform his friend. "I don't want to fight you, Remus." He growled gravely.

"Then what are you trying to do, lure me like you did Harry!" questioned Remus.

This was it. Fresh, hard rage bubbled through Sirius's veins. "I WOULD NEVER LEAD HARRY TO VOLDEMORT!" he roared, shaking.

Remus's palms grew sweaty, almost causing his wand to slip. Paling, he spoke softly. "Explain."

Fuming heavily, Sirius struggled to regain his cal. His eyes gave a far away look, and he spoke. "I died. There were whispers. They grew louder as I faded farther. I knew I was gone when I could understand their speech. Valar, or something of the sort. I swore I'd never bow to anyone…" he paused. "I was driven, told them I needed to be there for Harry. I couldn't face Lily and James in failure." A single bitter tear slid down his sunken face. "So, they brought me back until the prophecy is complete." He stared at Remus blankly.

"It's a complete load of bollocks" Remus told himself, and prepared to attack once more.

This time though, he was restrained by Pippin. The hobbit's face was etched in wonder. He turned to Sirius. "The Valar? Did they say anything more?"

Sirius nodded. "They spoke of a tree and seven stars."

Aragorn slowly treaded over to the werewolf. "My heart tells me what he says is true. For such tidings are known in my land."

The wand in Remus's hands clattered to the pavement. His eyes began to mist a bit, but he didn't care. He embraced his brother, felt his heart beating; knowing also, that he was once more alive.

Sirius's face quickly grew concerned though. "Harry's been taken?" he stammered.

"Yes" Remus spoke solemnly. "A metamorphagus became your form, and lured him in. All we know is that he's been taken to a graveyard."

Hope dawned on Sirius's face though. He was still alive, so Harry also lived. "I think I know where they are." He grinned. "Those death eaters won't know what hit them!"

!A!A!.

They began walking the rest of the way to the cemetery, Remus filling Sirius in on the events of late and telling him of the new members of the Order, and how they had come to be there. A few moments later they were found outside the gate of the graveyard.

TBC the sooner you review!


	12. Transfiguration Into Darkness

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

To my reviewers….

coolmarauders- Whoa now, hold on a second, lol. I, sadly, cannot take credit for the Bella and Voldy thing. Animagus wrote that. When I first posted the chapter I was trying to do a million other things at once, so forgot to mention that, stupid me! Anyway, thanks for reviewing so quick so I could change it. She also did the Remus and Sirius part at the end, which I thought was wonderful. God, I'm such an idiot.

LaxGoalie- Yep! We couldn't _not_ have Sirius, and being so enraged that he died in the first place that's how we vented anger…

the 1 hp fan- Lol, it really is Padfoot this time!

Brownie/Melody- I get stuck on this more than I like, lol. Good thing Animagus knows what she's doing! Thanks for reviewing!

LATMC- I love Pippin and Sam too, after Frodo and Aragorn of course, so why I inflict pain on them I have no clue, but it's so fun! And I'm so mean! No, not Sirius luring Harry, but…hmm, definitely a character you know, that'll drive you crazy for awhile, I guarantee it. :-D Drawing things out is our specialty. You can probably tell by this chapter. It is LOOOONG. Not like you'll be complaining. :-D

UK All The Way- Glad we're getting good reactions about Sirius being back. One of the things we were worried about was how people were going to take it, we didn't know if some people would think we were stupid or what, lol. Apparently, that didn't happen. :-D

Kirsti-Lee- Wow, thrilled you're so impressed. Thanks a bunch!

**A/N Again**: Animagus-Spirit also wrote a section of this chapter. That scene is separated by A!A, just so you know it's hers, not mine.She did a good job, too : )

Chapter 12: Transfiguration Into Darkness

The cell Frodo had been roughly tossed into was cold, wet, and unfriendly. The invisible restraint that had been placed around him had been removed, and he sat huddled in a corner shivering. He worried terribly about the others, and was ridden with guilt of his failure to protect them. He knew, of course, that there was nothing he could have done to stop the Death Eaters, but still he felt responsible for them. He wondered what would happen now. Would he be killed instantly, or tortured like Harry?

How long had he been there? It had to have at least been a few hours, but he didn't know. Exhaustion had settled deep inside his bones, the result of the night's excitement and his body's inability to completely fight the effects of the poison. The strengthening potion had helped greatly, but its effects were not made to last. He had tried to sleep, his eyelids falling closed on their own accord, but just as he felt himself beginning to slip away he would be plagued with concerns for his companions, and he found himself attempting to devise a strategy for escape.

He heard soft footfalls in the corridor and wearily lifted his head. Bellatrix Lestrange peered in at him from the other side of the bars of the enclosure he resided in.

She smirked. "Well, well…Frodo Baggins, Savior of Middle Earth… Poor Fwodo, all alone, how sad!"

"I do not fear you," he said firmly, his voice stronger than he had anticipated. Even as he spoke the words, though, he felt the first twinges of dread begin to form in the pit of his stomach. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered the orcs at Cirith Ungol, and how he had endured their torment. He wondered if that had only been a preparation for what was to come, and that worse tortures were in store for him. He was nearly ill with the thought.

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed. "Do you know whom you are speaking to?"

"It would appear," he said, voice rising, "that I do not care. I have faced worse."

"Widdle Fwodo needs to learn his manners!" she said. "_CRUCIO!_"

Pain unlike any other Frodo had ever felt exploded within him. He screamed and writhed in agony, tears streaming down his face, and prayed for it to end.

Bellatrix laughed wickedly. "You'll be sure to learn something from that!"

"Then you're wrong," Frodo said, rising to his feet. "You believe you are so powerful, but you know nothing of power!"

"Oh, but I am!" she said. "Compared to a tiny, useless, waste of air! _Crucio!_"

Frodo was prepared for it this time, and set his face, refusing to give her the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

"Know this," she said. "I have killed many, tortured many, and seen many die. I even killed my own cousin! Do you think I won't kill you?"

"Kill me then!" Frodo growled. "I do not fear death!"

"Widdle Fwodo is so very, very brave," she said, sneering. "Let's see how he reacts to the pain of others!"

She unlocked the door and entered the cell, grabbed Frodo's arm and dragged him, despite his struggling, through countless tunnels and around innumerable turns until they reached another occupied chamber. She pointed her wand inside. "_Crucio!"_

"SAM!" Frodo shouted, and threw himself at the bars. "Stop!" he yelled at Bellatrix. "He did nothing!"

She laughed evilly. "_Crucio!_" she said again. Frodo ran at her and attempted to physically stop her, but she roughly shoved him aside.

"No…please…!" he pleaded, tears in his eyes.

"_Crucio!"_

Not knowing what else to do, and near frantic, he clasped the elven jewel that hung from his neck and shouted, "ELBERETH!"

A blinding light filled the corridor, and Bellatrix's laughter stopped short as she was thrown against the far wall.

"You…how did you…?" she said, eyes wide.

Frodo found himself equally shocked, but decided to use this situation to his advantage, if it was possible for him to have one, that is. The odds were unfavorable for his position, and he needed any benefit he could grasp.

"I have far more powerful allies behind me than you," he said boldly. "More powerful than your lord." As he finished speaking, Frodo made a silent prayer to the Valar that he had succeeded in intimidating her, frightening her perhaps, for he did not want to imagine what would happen if her full wrath was unleashed upon him.

Bellatrix's eyes first widened, surprised at his bravery, then narrowed in fury. It seemed as if the fires of Hell were alit in them, and Frodo, despite himself, shrank back against the bars of the now unconscious Sam's cell. She searched for her wand, which had flown from her hand as she had plunged into the wall. Not finding it, for it was somewhere behind Frodo, she stood and ran at him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and slamming him against the bars. He let out a cry of pain.

"_No one _has more power than the Dark Lord!" she barked savagely, yanking the hobbit's head back by his hair with the hand that was not pinning him against the bars. "If you dare insult him, you must face him!" She released him shirtfront, and finally locating her wand within the cell retrieved it and bound his wrists behind his back. She grabbed Frodo by the hair and dragged him to Voldemort's chambers, as the hobbit strived to gain his feet.

Bellatrix knocked thrice on the rotted wood of the door. "Enter," said a cold voice. Shivers ran up and down Frodo's spine. She pushed open the door and stepped in front of Frodo.

"It is me, my lord, I've brought a prisoner who has affronted your power. I thought you would like to deal with him," she said, bowing to him.

"Show him to me."

Bellatrix yanked Frodo forward and shoved him roughly forward. He fell to his knees, unable to keep his footing.

"Leave us."

Bellatrix bowed again and backed out of the room, closing the door softly as she went. Frodo gazed upward into scarlet, menacing eyes that stood out against chalk white skin. Terror gripped his heart, and he found himself quivering in fear. _What have I done?_

Voldemort let a burning gaze travel over the hobbit, and he laughed a cold, high pitched laugh that was immediately familiar to Frodo, although he could not place where the memory came from.

"So," hissed Voldemort. "You question my power…but what does someone like yourself know of power?"

Frodo said nothing, but did not break eye contact with the Dark Lord. Red eyes bore into his own blue, searching, searching for…for what, exactly, Frodo didn't know, but he didn't like the feeling that this man, if he was a man, seemed to read him like an open book. He had known terror, had been faced with many evils and horrors that even now haunted his nightmares. He had carried the Ring, perhaps the worst of them all, but he had never been brought before Sauron, had never been forced to endure direct interrogations that he could only cover with fruitless lies.

"What do you know of The Order of the Phoenix?" Voldemort asked with the nonchalance of one asking about the weather.

Again, Frodo remained silent, afraid that even by denying information he would reveal his fear, and he knew that resilience was his only defense.

"I asked you a question, hobbit, and I have little patience when awaiting answers."

Frodo swallowed, and hoped Voldemort wouldn't see through him. "I know nothing," he lied, still not lowering his stare.

Voldemort smiled. He sat in a high-backed chair and reached to a small table beside it. He poured a clear liquid, presumably water, into a glass.

"You must be terribly thirsty," he said, taking a drink from a separate glass. He stood and carried the first over to Frodo, and offered it to him.

Frodo shook his head. "I'm fine," he said.

Anger passed over Voldemort's face. He kicked the hobbit in the stomach--hard. Frodo doubled up with a gasp. His concentration and alertness broke, and Voldemort seized this chance and began to break into the hobbit's mind. Frodo felt as if his head was splitting in two, but instead of this weakening him, it only encouraged him to focus harder on forcing Voldemort to leave his mind.

The Dark Lord stopped abruptly and took a few steps backward. He stared at Frodo, eyes slightly widened in surprise. He had not found what he had searched for, but instead had felt strength within the hobbit, strength greater than he would have thought, and had seen an ally of Frodo that could prove useful.

"Tell me of the wizard Gandalf and his whereabouts," he ordered.

Frodo's head snapped up, though he still remained bent over, clutching his throbbing stomach. Voldemort sneered, and Frodo knew his quick reaction had been a mistake. "I refuse to tell you anything, despite what you may do to me."

"You might not fear for yourself, but you would be wise to answer, or I may have to sacrifice your dear servant, Samwise."

Frodo flinched. "No…"

"Ah, so you do have weaknesses, Frodo Baggins," Voldemort said, grinning evilly. "So akin to Harry Potter you are, caring only for your friends and loved ones…"

Frodo glared at him, beginning to shake in anger. A good thing too, this was, for Frodo felt that if his anger wasn't dominating his fear, he would be easy prey for Voldemort's purposes.

"I could kill you now, it would be so simple…" Voldemort said to him. "But I am willing to make you an offer."

"I will strike no bargain with the forces of evil," sad Frodo firmly.

"Be careful, Baggins, or I will kill those you love."

Frodo struggled inwardly. He feared not for himself, but for his friends. Yet, giving himself up to Voldemort could mean danger to the Order, and there was no promise that the others would remain unharmed even if he did agree to Voldemort's will.

"Hurry, hobbit, or I will have each of them brought here and killed before your eyes."

In spite of himself, Frodo felt tears brimming in his eyes, and felt a few begin to trickle slowly down his cheeks. He raised his eyes back to Voldemort.

"What do you ask of me?" he choked.

Voldemort sneered. "You will serve me," he said.

Frodo bowed his head in defeat, tears now coursing steadily down his face. "I give you my allegiance. I will do whatever you ask," he said, his voice quivering.

"Very good, Frodo," Voldemort said with triumph. Frodo squeezed his eyes shut, and felt his shoulders shake with silent sobs. He suddenly felt his left sleeve being ripped off, then something scorching on his forearm. He cried out and opened his eyes. Beneath the frayed cloth an image was burned into his skin. A skull, with a snake emerging from its mouth.

"I need not influence you to do what I ask. The fear you have for your friends will hold you to your word."

Frodo nodded.

"Come with me, and know that if you deceive me your friends will be dead the moment I am made aware of it, and you will endure tortures beyond your imagination."

Frodo stood, and felt the bindings on his wrists come undone. He followed Voldemort obediently from the room.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Sirius roughly shoved open the heavy gate and stepped into the graveyard, but was stopped from moving any further when Aragorn grabbed his arm.

"I know you're anxious to find Harry," he said. "But now that we're here, I can be of more use." Aragorn pointed to the ground. "It rained a few days ago, the ground is still soft. I can track them easily, for they would have left evidence."

Sirius looked annoyed at not being able to do things his own way, but knew Aragorn was being logical. He nodded.

The king began scouring the ground for traces of his companions. It wasn't long until he found an impression in the ground, and after that the path wasn't difficult to follow. He moved quickly and with skill; his experiences in the wild had not been without reward. He thanked Eru that it had thus far been a rather damp summer, a drought would have made it much harder to track the others. He was so engrossed in his search that he did not pay attention to where he was going, and nearly collided with the headstone.

He stood up, puzzled, and then searched the ground again. He backtracked twice, but the trail led him still to the same place.

"What is it?" asked Merry.

Aragorn's brow furrowed in confusion. "Their path ends abruptly here," he said, pointing to the headstone.

Remus knelt at the angel's feet. "The ground is softer here," he said. "As if this grave has recently been dug, but--"

"But how can that be if the headstone is so old?" Aragorn finished, perplexed.

"Could it be underground?" asked Pippin.

Aragorn's eyes lit up and he beamed at the hobbit. "Peregrin Took, I must admit you are a marvel!"

"Then there has to be a way in," Remus said, standing. "But where?"

"I don't think it'll do us too much good wondering about it," Sirius said irritably, placing a hand on the angel and leaning on it. "It has to open somehow."

The earth shook and the ground opened before them. Aragorn jumped back to avoid falling into the chasm.

"There you go, Padfoot," Remus said.

Sirius hesitated the briefest of seconds before throwing his legs over the side and dropping in. The other four exchanged glances and followed.

At the bottom, Sirius began walking down the tunnel that led deeper into the lair, wand held ready. Strangely enough, they met no one as they maneuvered around corners and through twisting, endless corridors. The quiet was unnerving, and the lack of any other life was eerie. Pippin, concentrating on listening for sounds in the silence, suddenly tripped, and landed with an "Oof," in front of Merry, who couldn't stop himself in time and tumbled forward.

"Pippin!" he hissed.

"Sorry Merry!" Pippin said.

"Quiet you two!" Sirius said. "I think I hear someone coming."

The two cousins immediately settled and stood up. The group inched away from the footsteps slowly, Aragorn feeling along the wall for a place to conceal themselves. A few feet later he found an opening, more like a large crack, in the wall.

"In here!" he whispered urgently, and ushered the others inside. It was uncomfortably crammed, but had it been any larger it would have been too noticeable. Aragorn shrank back into the shadows as he heard voices.

"Hurry! I sense someone near," Voldemort said as he and Frodo emerged from around the bend. Aragorn had to restrain Pippin, who tried to push past him, even as he felt his own breath catch in his throat.

"Yes, my Lord," said Frodo. Tears still fell from his eyes, and within those blue orbs Aragorn saw such a complete loss and helplessness that he felt tears well in his own. As the two passed their recess, Frodo lifted his head and seemed to look right at Aragorn. He hesitated briefly, then continued on his way.

When Aragorn was certain they were beyond earshot, he moved from the alcove to allow the others out, and at once grabbed Merry and Pippin's arms. "Do not act rashly," he demanded quickly. "We must treat this place as if it were a trap ready to spring. Frodo is not himself, I do not know why, or what has transpired, but you _cannot_ do anything unwise."

"I believe Frodo is under the Imperius Curse. He cannot control his actions." said Remus. "Don't worry," he added, seeing their stricken looks. "We can help him."

Sirius was already moving. "Come on, they might lead us to Harry," he said.

The crept silently but steadily down the corridor, keeping fair distance between themselves and Voldemort. They paused and crouched behind a large mound of dirt when the shadows of both Dark Lord and hobbit stopped moving. Running footsteps could be heard approaching.

"My Lord," said a voice. "I have devastating news, three of our prisoners have escaped!"

"Who?" demanded Voldemort.

"The mud blood and the two red-heads, my Lord."

"You should not have let this happen, Nott, _Crucio."_

Screams of agony were heard, and then silence. Voldemort spoke again. "Find and recapture them, or that will seem like nothing."

"Yes, my Lord," said Nott, and the footsteps receded back down the corridor.

"Let us continue, Frodo."

"Yes, my Lord," said Frodo weakly, and they began moving forward once again.

"Well, that was close," whispered a voice behind Pippin. The hobbit froze, unable to move, as the others slowly turned around.

"_Ron? Hermione? Ginny?"_ said Remus in amazement. "How did you escape?"

Ginny held up a hairpin. "A trick I learned from Fred and--_Sirius?"_ Together with Ron and Hermione she stared open-mouthed at him.

Sirius grinned. "Great to see you three."

"We'll explain later," said Remus, beginning to walk down the tunnel. "Come on."

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Voldemort stopped outside of Harry's cell and leaned down to Frodo's ear. "I will leave for the moment. Lead him to me."

"As you command, my Lord," said Frodo, and Voldemort left after unlocking the door. Frodo entered the cell and moved over to the unconscious form.

A!A!

He glanced back, making sure Voldemort was beyond hearing distance, and began shaking Harry's silent form. To his relief, the teenager's striking emerald eyes fluttered open to meet his.

"Fr-Frodo?" he rasped quietly, a weak smile developing on his haggard features.

Taking in Harry's appearance, Frodo was transported back to the agony on Oroduin. The memories sent a sharp pain to his left shoulder. He wanted to be kind, let the boy rest, but time was running thin.

"We need to escape, Harry. Are you able to walk?" questioned the hobbit softly.

Pushing himself to a sitting position, Harry sent Frodo a look so calm that it sent chills up his spine. Something wasn't right. The next sentence spoken by the wizard was the last thing expected.

"Yes, but I've just started supper with my mum and dad. Is it possible to wait a bit?" Harry spoke conversationally.

Frodo stepped back, aghast. "What?" he murmured.

Harry also seemed confused now. "You're quite welcome to join us," he uttered a bit dazedly.

At a loss for what to do, Frodo stood, planted in place, eyes shining with worry. If he lingered too long, Voldemort was bound to suspect something, and that meant definite death to the both of them. He was somewhat shocked that Harry had been spared so far. Apparently, the lord was blinded with want of a show. He wanted to drive the boy so far into the filth that he begged for death. "It's not real!" he burst out suddenly, much to Harry's further bewilderment. "You're being held captive by Voldemort under a cemetery! Your parents died years ago!" Frodo whispered frantically to Harry. He felt like a madman, but there seemed no alternative. Harry had remembered him, perhaps he'd remember these truths also.

"Was I that pathetic and painful to see?" pondered Frodo sadly as Harry continued to stare openmouthed.

"Voldemort is manipulating your mind. He wants you to believe this, but it's not true! He wishes to torture you until no breath escapes you and your heart ceases to beat!" Frodo was acting as Sam. Sam had been the one who had saved him from death and madness when It threatened to take complete control.

Suddenly, Frodo felt an eerie presence behind them, and quickly twisted around. As he did so, his foot awkwardly slipped in a pool of water. He felt himself collapse to the stiff rock floor. Astounded, he was helped to a sitting position by two of the most unlikely assistants.

"Frodo!" beamed Merry and Pippin, almost in unison and they embraced him.

"How did you find your way?" questioned Frodo in amazement.

"Well," started Merry, "we figured if Sam could find you in Cirith Ungol, here wouldn't be that impossible."

Noticing shapes behind Merry and Pippin, he spotted a mass of bushy hair and two sets of flaming red hair. His joyous smile widened with relief. "You escaped?" he asked, even though it was obvious.

"Yes!" beamed Hermione.

"What about Sam?" questioned Frodo, his mind focusing back to his loyal gardener. Ron's face dropped.

"We tried to find him mate, but we ran into this company before we were able to." He motioned to Aragorn, Lupin, and a man Frodo could swear he'd seen before.

Noticing Frodo's confusion, Remus sent Sirius a look to introduce himself, but Sirius had no time for formalities.

"Where is Harry?" he asked urgently, scanning the room.

"I'm here," grinned Harry calmly.

Sirius's heart leapt, and within less than a second he was by his godson's side. Harry was covered in scratches and bruises, and seemed very weak. Worry suddenly turned to fury towards the ones responsible. Sirius swore to kill those villains…

Looking a bit shocked by this Harry spoke up awkwardly. "Sirius, you're acting odd."

Sirius's expression quickly changed and his eyes shakily locked with Frodo's. The hobbit sighed, knowing that what he was about to reveal would bring pain to the whole group, especially this man it seemed.

"He's delusional. Voldemort affected him somehow…" he whispered, aware of all the eyes on him. Harry didn't hear this, and turned to Sirius. "Want to join my mum and dad for supper?"

Any sign of hope and joy vanished from Sirius's face. He was once again captive in that cramped, algid cell in Azkaban. No joy came without a swiftly following pain. It was a lesson learned that he yearned to forget. It was too much this time…"Harry," he croaked hoarsely. "Lily and James…" he didn't want to say it. Each and every time he spoke it aloud he could see them fading farther into oblivion. "They...They're...dead…"

Shocked, Harry's bewilderment turned into annoyance. "Don't be a nutter Sirius," he uttered coldly, moving farther away.

Sirius's face twisted in agony as he stared at his godson. To Harry's surprise, Sirius had grasped his arm firmly. He shot back a look of disgust, but Sirius was numb. "Harry…come back.," he pleaded.

Remus, throughout this scene, had ached to aid his friend, but Aragorn had stopped him. The king felt that this wasn't meant to be interrupted, as unbearable as it was to view.

"Come back…" Sirius mouthed almost silently. He would save Harry, he had to! It couldn't be like this…

Suddenly, Harry's eyes shone with a light of awakening, and he fell unconscious, into Sirius's arms.

Everyone was still for a moment, until Ron ran over. "Harry, wake up mate!" he spoke worriedly. No change…Feeling a smaller arm push him away, Frodo managed to move to Harry. Closing his eyes, Frodo murmured the words that had revived him so long ago.

"Lasto beth nîn. Tolo dan na ngalad."

Harry blinked, looked around, and spotted Ron and Hermione in kneeling in front of him, hopeful smiles on their faces. Slowly, he focused his gaze, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Sirius…" He whispered, barely able to breathe.

His godfather stared back at him. "I'm here, Harry."

The younger wizard could have passed out again out of shock. "How?" he spoke softly.

Sirius longed to stay here and tell his godson everything, but time wouldn't allow it. "I'll tell you later. We have more pressing matters at the moment. Can you walk?"

"I think so," smiled Harry as Ron and Hermione helped him to his feet.

A!A!

Aragorn moved to Frodo and embraced the hobbit. "How do you fare, Frodo, are you hurt?"

The hobbit shook his head. "No, I'm all right," he said, smiling. The smile soon disappeared and his eyes beheld the scene surrounding him. His heart beat faster, not in joy as it should have, but in hard, cold terror.

Aragorn noticed this first. "What is it?" he asked in genuine concern. Frodo stood from where he knelt at Harry's side and stepped back.

"You shouldn't be here," he whispered urgently, eyes darting from each person to the door.

Aragorn extended a hand. "Frodo, it is all right my friend, be still, we shall make it out of here alive," he said softly, soothingly, brows furrowed in confusion and worry.

Frodo shook his head quickly. "No, no, you must leave! Now! Go, all of you!" he ordered frantically. "You must go, lest He finds you, he'll kill you, all of you if he knew I was--"

"What, Frodo?" asked Pippin, voice shaking. "Knew you were what?"

Frodo backed away from them until he felt the wall at his back. His eyes widened, he shook in panic and his breaths came short and fast. He felt as if he would collapse. Aragorn reached out and clutched the hobbit's left forearm, which had remained covered by his cloak. "Frodo…" The hobbit gasped in pain as pressure was placed upon the burnt skin, and tried to pull away. Aragorn grabbed the hobbit's other arm firmly, but gently. "What ails you, my friend?" he said, and pulled the soft fabric of the Elven cloak from the hobbit's forearm.

Frodo shut his eyes and turned his face away from the stifled shrieks and gasps that accompanied the unbelieving stares, tears again falling unbidden. Aragorn, who had released the hobbit in surprise now moved forward again and turned Frodo's face to him. Frodo opened red rimmed eyes and gazed sadly at the king. "I'm so sorry," he said softly, breaths hitching in his throat. "He gave me no choice, he said he would kill…" Frodo found he could not continue, overcome with weeping as he was. Aragorn wrapped him in his arms in an attempt to soothe his friend, but Frodo only pushed him away.

"Go," he croaked. "Leave this place. I've lingered too long, he will be suspicious."

"We won't leave without you, Frodo," Merry said steadily.

"Do you not see?" Frodo pleaded. "Your time runs short, if he finds out, he will kill each and everyone one of you without fail. Only when you are far from here will you be safe."

"Frodo," said Aragorn. "You will come with us, I will not leave you behind to face further pain."

"If I flee, he will hunt you down and kill you just to punish me. There is no pain greater, Aragorn," he begged, eyes shining. "Find Sam, I can take you to him, I know where he is, and leave. Do not come back."

Remus knelt beside the hobbit. "Frodo, what if you weren't running away from Voldemort? What if we forced you to leave, dragged you along with us?"

Frodo seemed to consider this. "No, he'll know, he always knows!"

"Frodo, if-"

In one swift movement Frodo drew Sting, pointing the blade at both of them. "You will leave, now. Aragorn, I will take you to Sam, and you will take him from this place, without me."

After some hesitation, and unwillingly, Aragorn nodded. It was not that he felt threatened by the sword, he had his own, and besides, he knew Frodo would not hurt him, but there simply was no other way. He had to find Sam, and had to make sure the others got out. If he had to, he would carry Frodo out, despite how hard the hobbit fought.

The former ranger stood. "Merry, Pippin, go with the others, and do not turn back."

The hobbits both opened their mouths in fury, but Aragorn silenced them. "No arguments, gentlemen." He looked to Remus. "Keep them safe."

Remus nodded. "Let's go," he said, and he, Sirius, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Merry, and Pippin exited the cell.

Ginny turned around. "Here," she said, handing the hairpin to Aragorn. "You'll need this." The king smiled, and watched the group file down the passageway.

"Show me where he is, Frodo." The hobbit nodded and began leading the way in the opposite direction of the others, his mind focused on the map his mind had drawn of what he knew of the endless tunnels, his heart beating for Sam, his spirit, though unbroken, screaming against his decision.

TBC

A/N: Just thought I'd take a second to point out the obvious...there are quite a few more chapters on the way for this fic, and it won't be finished for quite awhile. HBP, as we all know, obviously, comes out in 13 days or so. So "Scars" won't be finished by then. "Scars" is a pre-HBP fic, so once HBP is released it will be out of date. I hope no one cares...it bothers me a bit...just thought I'd mention that...


	13. Escaping the Gloom

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

A/N II: This will be the last chapter posted before HBP. And as soon as that's out, I know we're all going to be reading it, and so will be too busy to bother about anything else. : ) After HBP, this fic will be officially outdated, so I'm not quite sure how it's going to be viewed…

My reviewers…

LATMC- Hmm…let's not talk about that ending just yet…and just who was that fake Sirius anyway? I'd have to say my favorites are Frodo, Aragorn, and Sam. (In no particular order except Frodo's first!) I don't know why we inflict pain on the favorites either, I can't even answer that, lol. Anyway…I think you're in for a few surprises within the rest of this fic…thanks, and enjoy!

LaxGoalie- : ( Poor Frodo indeed, and that's not even the end of it!

UK All The Way- Chapter 12 was my favorite to write. ANGST! Lol, such an angst person I am…anyway, for your answers. Voldemort used dark magic to make Harry have hallucinations of his parents. Animagus was the one who came up with that, so it's more of her area of expertise. Frodo's arm was what was hurting from when Voldemort burned the Dark Mark onto his skin. I would imagine that the skin would be tender for awhile afterwards. Sorry for the confusion…Thanks for the review!

coolmarauders- Loved writing that scene with Frodo and Voldemort, probably one of my favorites. Sorry about the confusion with Harry. Like I told UK All The Way, Voldemort used dark magic that caused Harry to hallucinate that his parents were alive.

Chapter 13: Escaping the Gloom

Frodo stopped just far enough away from Sam's cell so that the younger hobbit couldn't see them. He looked up at Aragorn. "You will have to continue alone from here," he said. "If Sam sees me, he will not allow me to remain behind."

Aragorn frowned. "And if he doesn't see you, he will refuse to leave until he knows you are safe. I will not lie to him, either, Frodo."

Frodo winced and sighed, then walked forward toward Sam. Aragorn picked the locked without trouble and the door swung open. Sam looked up from his position in the far corner.

"Frodo!" he exclaimed, leaping to his feet and hurrying forward.

"Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to be hurt…" Frodo said, embracing him.

"Ssh, I'm alright, Mr. Frodo, no harm done."

"Come on, Sam, we have to get out of here," said Frodo.

Sam nodded and noticed Aragorn for the first time. "Hullo, Mr. Strider."

Aragorn smiled. "Hello, Sam, are you all right?"

"Aye, sir," Sam affirmed.

The three were emerging from the dingy cell when an enormous quake shook the entire underground chamber, accompanied by a deafening bang. Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam lurched forward.

"What was that?" Frodo said, bewildered. They did not need to wonder for long; Voldemort's voice, sounding far away but loud, came rushing at them.

"WORMTAIL! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING UNNECESSARY SPELLS HERE! THE ENTIRE SYSTEM COULD COLLAPSE!"

Aragorn and the others exchanged fearful glances. "We must hurry," the king said, and they hastily started moving again.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Sirius and Remus led the others back the way they had come, hoping they would quickly find the exit. They didn't meet anyone as they progressed forward, much to everyone's suspicion.

"Kind of an empty lair, isn't it?" Sirius said.

"I noticed another corridor when we first entered," Remus said. "I'm guessing that maybe that's where everyone is, and that this is just a sort of dungeon."

Sirius grunted. "A nice system they've got here, traps and guards everywhere, just in case."

Remus smiled, then noticed a small sort of door-less closet to the right of them. "What's this?" he wondered aloud, and stepped inside. There were a few miscellaneous items on shelves, including parchment, various potions, and, on a low shelf near the back, four wands and two swords. Remus picked them up, and immediately after doing so the ground shook brutally. Remus righted himself and looked over his shoulder at Sirius. "What was that you were saying about traps?"

Sirius shook his head, and Voldemort's enraged voice rang in their ears.

"We should hurry," said Ginny as Remus handed her and the others their wands. The swords he handed to the hobbits.

"Right," said Ron, and again they continued moving.

The group was near the exit when Bellatrix nearly collided with them as she came bustling around a corner. Her eyes widened. "Trying to escape, are we? Well, I'll just have to--" She saw Sirius and her eyes widened even more, she fell against the wall and pointed at him, her mouth opening and closing.

Sirius looked himself over. "What?" he said. "I can't look that bad…"

"You…I-I-I killed you!" Bellatrix stammered, flabbergasted.

Sirius patted his arms and torso. "Hmm. Do I look dead to you, Remus?"

Bellatrix quickly tried to regain her composure. "I may have failed before, but I won't this time! _Avada--"_

"_STUPEFY!_" shouted two voices, and Bellatrix stopped short in mid-spell, falling to the ground.

Sirius looked at Remus and grinned. "Nice shot."

"Let's move though," said Remus and they continued. They hurried through more tunnels, hoping they were heading in the right direction, as more of the tunnel began to give way. A rock struck Ginny's forehead, and she cried out and slid to the ground. She quickly recovered and was able to move on. The tunnel shook again and Pippin was hurled forward, his arm landing beneath him with a loud crack. Merry jerked him upward quickly, and the party continued on.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Large portions of dirt and rock were beginning to fall from the ceiling, and mud was sliding down the walls. Aragorn led Frodo and Sam onward with the only thought of making it out before the entire tunnel caved in. Still, Frodo kept alert for any chance to slip away. He knew that he, too, had to get out, but there were other exits. He couldn't leave with Sam and Aragorn; if Voldemort were to see him with them they would be killed.

Suddenly, the ground shook violently for a second time, and he and Sam were thrown off their feet. Frodo rolled away and ducked into a minute hole that had opened in the wall. He held his breath.

"Frodo!" shouted Sam, and the mentioned hobbit could vaguely see Sam searching for him. "Strider, he's gone!"

Aragorn's eyes widened and he cursed himself. For a moment, he, too began looking and calling for Frodo, but even his keen eyes passed over the crack and the concealed hobbit within it. Fear covered the faces of both Sam and Aragorn, and the king hung his head.

"Come, Sam, we have little time," Aragorn said, dodging a plummeting rock.

Sam looked aghast. "No sir, not until I've found him!"

"Sam, I will return for Frodo, you will not help him by losing your own life!"

Sam shook his head, tears beginning to fall as he hurried further away from Aragorn. The king sighed, caught the frantic hobbit and lifted him into his arms. "Forgive me Sam, you leave me no choice," he said, and still keeping one eye open for and exit and another open for Frodo, began running through the underground chaos. He soon found the ground sloping upward and a few moments later found the cylindrical duct that led upward. He moved up it awkwardly but quickly, and his head emerged to see the other group standing beneath a lone tree a quite a few yards off, looking fearful.

"Sam!" shouted Merry and Pippin, running over to him and Aragorn and helping the former out. Aragorn pulled himself out and ushered them back toward the others.

"Where's Frodo?" asked Merry, voice shaking slightly despite his attempts to hide it. Pippin looked on in fear.

Aragorn knelt to the hobbits' level. "He slipped away from us, my friends. I must return and find him." As he stood, the earth shuddered fiercely again, and he staggered. Someone grabbed his arm, and he turned and saw Sirius standing next to him.

"Look, let me go, I don't get to do much. I'll be faster anyway," he said.

"Take care," Aragorn said, not bothering to protest, knowing it would be fruitless.

Sirius transformed into the great black dog, trotted back to the opening in the ground and leapt in headfirst. For those above the ground, all they could do was wait.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

As soon and Sam and Aragorn had passed, Frodo had stood and began running in the other direction. When he reached the end of the corridor, his path twisted sharply upward, and he emerged into a wider passageway. He went left, assuming by the lack of Death Eaters that he was possibly the only person remaining underground.

Quite unexpectedly, it seemed that the whole structure rumbled from deep in its center. The ground suddenly opened up at Frodo's feet. He cried out in surprise as he fell through the air. He hit the ground below him hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him. The air was filled with dust that stung his eyes and filled his lungs. He attempted to stand, but found his right leg had sunk into the ground. He tried to free himself, but the leg refused to budge. "Blast," he said aloud, then, "Elbereth, help me."

He found he quickly lost energy, and his attempts grew slower and slower until he could do nothing more but lay on his stomach panting. A skeleton was hanging awkwardly on the wall opposite him, and Frodo found himself wondering if, in years to come, his would ever be found, or if it would remain there, alone, forever. The ground quivered again, and Frodo felt something heavy collide with the back of his head before all went dark.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

In the growing debris and gathering dust, the eyes of Sirius's dog form weren't much good. He strained his ears for any sound but that of the rumbling of the collapsing tunnels, but heard nothing. Instead, he relied on the keen, highly sensitive nose to pick up any scent that might show him the way.

It wasn't any of these things that led him to Frodo.

Dogs have been known to do any number of extraordinary things, whether it be aiding the disabled, identifying bombs, drugs, or cancer cells, rescuing those lost, drowning, trapped in burning buildings, avalanches, or, coincidentally, cave ins, or working with police forces. Excluding all these things, dogs seem to have a sort of sixth sense for detecting seizures, storms, earthquakes, or danger in general.

Now, Sirius night not have been a real dog, but some inner instinct told him at the exact moment to move. He leapt aside into another passageway just as another portion of the tunnel above collapsed, and at the end of this found the hobbit lying along the wall on the far side of an open room.

His sensitive dog's nose picked up the coppery smell of blood, and seeing the syrupy liquid still wet in the hobbit's hair Sirius knew he had to move quickly. With his teeth he grabbed Frodo's sleeve and pulled. Nothing happened.

Sirius lifted his head and let his gaze travel beyond Frodo, where he saw the hobbit's trapped leg. Had he not been a dog, he would have cursed, but as he _was_ a dog, he could only make a low sound in the back of this throat, something between a grunt and a woof.

Striding over to the trapped limb, he began digging furiously until Frodo's leg came free. At this point though, the cave in was imminent. Knowing they couldn't possibly make it out in time, Sirius glanced quickly about for any place that could possibly prevent them from being crushed. He spied a mass of tree roots protruding about halfway up the opposite wall, a large flat rock wedged within them. Not taking anymore time to consider his options, he gripped Frodo's sleeve again in his teeth and dragged the hobbit to his destination. He leapt easily into the area and then reached down to pull Frodo up with him.

Sirius was surprised to find that what looked like a shallow crevice actually went much deeper. He had to crouch, and it was a tight squeeze, but treading backwards and slowly hauling the hobbit behind him he managed it easily. It finally ended in a small sort of den, and with a sigh Sirius laid down beside the hobbit to wait for the worse to pass.

He didn't have to wait long. Although from where he was he couldn't see anything, those above ground watched in horror as the ground before them gave way and slid forward, looking like a waterfall of mud and rock, creating a deep, wide cavity in the earth. Tombstones sank into it and disappeared.

Hermione gasped and her hand flew to her mouth, Ginny's reaction was somewhat similar. Aragorn had to hold back the hobbits as Remus and Ron each had to grab one of Harry's arms, even though he shouldn't have been much trouble in his weakened state.

"Let--me--GO!" shouted Harry, and he tore free and ran forward to start digging through the soil. Three hobbits proved too much for Aragorn, and one by one they too broke free and joined Harry in is manic attempts.

The sudden burst of energy was too much for Harry, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to continue his frantic digging. After awhile even Sam stopped, and buried his head in his hands, weeping. Merry and Pippin placed comforting arms around his shoulders and together they cried.

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny walked to Harry. "Harry…I'm really sorry," said Hermione.

"Get away from me!" Harry growled, sitting up.

Hermione stepped back, a bit surprised, but Ron only moved closer.

"Don't take it out on her! If it was anyone's fault it was yours!" he shouted.

"Ron, don't be ridiculous, Harry didn't do anything!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Will you decide whether I'm guilty or not!" Harry roared.

Hermione said, "Harry, Ron was just--"

"ON RON'S SIDE NOW, ARE YOU?"

"Of course not, I was just--"

"WELL YOU'RE BLOODY ACTING LIKE IT!"

"No one's on anyone's side! This is stupid, Harry, will you quit taking things out on us all the time!" Ginny this time.

"MAYBE IF YOU ALL WOULD JUST--"

"Leave you alone? Alright, we will!" Ron rebelled, beginning to storm away.

"Maybe we should all just go back to--"

"AGREEING WITH RON LIKE ALWAYS, HERMIONE!"

"I do not always agree with Ron!"

"I think we should go back, as well!"

"SO NOW YOU'RE WITH THEM, TOO!"

"Harry!"

"Maybe if some people would just--"

CRACK!

It was like a whip cut through the air. Instantly everyone ceased their arguing and looked up. Remus was holding his wand out, looking rather menacing.

"All of you need to calm down!" he said angrily. "Harry, you're ill. Ginny, that cut on your forehead may need stitching. The rest of you are incredibly fatigued and need rest. We need to get back, now, before the sun completely rises. I don't want any objections, let's go."

Harry looked bewildered. "DID YOU JUST SEE--"

"I know, Harry!" Remus shouted. "First off, in all honesty, I'm sure Sirius is fine. Second, we're going back, and so are you, no arguments. I'll come back once the lot of you are safe and in good hands and see what I can do, but for now, we're going back."

Harry glared at him, but said nothing more. With a nod from Remus, Ron helped Harry stand and slid and arm under his shoulders to help him walk, albeit unwillingly.

Aragorn moved to the hobbits. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. I believe you will agree with me when I say Frodo is made of sterner substance than it seems. He lives, are your hearts not telling you so?"

The hobbits merely looked at him, too melancholy to either agree or disagree. As one Merry and Pippin stood and helped Sam to gain his footing, and followed the others to the gate.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Slowly, the black that was controlling Frodo's mind began to slowly lighten into gray, like the sky in the early stages of dawn. As consciousness began to return to him, he became aware of a terrible, biting pain on the back of his head. He groaned and stirred as his eyelids fluttered and then slowly opened.

At first all he could perceive was darkness, and his eyes strained to see around him. The darkness was complete though, and Frodo found that when he placed his hand before his face he could not see it. He shivered.

Something moved a few inches from him. Something _large. _He froze, unable to move. He could hear it's heavy breathing. Frodo's heart began to beat faster, his own breaths coming quickly and in short gasps, causing a sharp pain in his side, which had been bruised in the fall. He cried out despite himself, and felt eyes on him, though whether they could see him or were only guessing his location, he didn't know. He covered his mouth with his hand and forced himself to breathe more slowly through his nose.

He heard it move, stand up maybe, and then, perhaps the worst thing, realized it was right next to him. He scooted backwards but only found the wall of the enclosure he was in. Something heavy--something soft and heavy--was placed on his shoulder. Frodo froze again, and held his breath, hoping it would leave him alone.

The thing on his shoulder was removed. Frodo listened intently for sounds that it was moving away. He heard something else instead. It _whimpered._ It didn't growl menacingly, it didn't snarl in anger, it _whimpered_, a sort of whine like that of a dog…

A dog?

Gathering up his courage, Frodo extended a hand and met long fur. He moved it slowly upward and found soft ears, then moving it forward, a long snout ending in a wet nose. He drew back his hand and sighed in relief. A dog. Only a dog. Praise the Valar. Frodo had never been particularly fond of dogs, but at least it wouldn't hurt him.

Remembering something, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the phial. "Aiya Eärendil Elenion Ancalima," he said quietly. Light shone from the teardrop-shaped glass and alit the area he was in. The first thing he saw was the dog, huge and black and a bit frightening-looking. He looked around and found himself in a very tiny dirt chamber, which he knew wasn't where he had last been. For a moment he wondered how he had gotten there, but his attention was brought back to the dog and he realized he had been rescued from the collapsing labyrinth. He smiled weakly. "Good dog…" he said, before falling back into unconsciousness.

Sirius wondered if he should have transformed back to himself rather than alarm the hobbit, but decided that it didn't matter. What did matter now was getting out of there. Thankful for the light, Sirius nosed it to the tunnel where it shone through to the end. He inched along the way and found it blocked by mud. He grunted and growled at it.

He decided not to dwell on it and instead began digging carefully and diligently at the top, glad it was mud and not dirt, because it packed well and wasn't constantly falling out of place. He didn't need a place to put it either, he just spread it to the sides and it stuck together. He dug quickly, creating a sloping tunnel, just large enough for him to fit through while crawling. As he worked, strong muscles moving easily, he tried to determine how far he had to go. He guessed that the original entrance had gone down thirty yards, but the area he had found Frodo in had to be several feet deeper. When the structure caved in, it would have sloped downward, creating a large hole in the ground above, so the top would be nearer. How near, exactly, he didn't know. Close, he hoped, they had only a limited amount of oxygen.

Every so often he would return to Frodo to make sure the hobbit was all right, then he would return to his endless digging. He worked hours, pushing the wet earth aside and pushing his way forward. The higher he went the dryer the earth became. He was ever so cautious, knowing the ground beneath his feet could give way at any moment. He moved the phial along with him, careful not to lose it but needing the light it provided.

Many hours after he had started digging his head broke through the surface and he sucked in fresh, cool air. He pushed his shoulders through and stood on the soft, unstable ground. He shook himself, bits of loose mud flying everywhere, then stopped and wondered what the point had been. He nosed back into the newly-dug tunnel and crawled back to Frodo.

He managed to rouse the hobbit and convince him to crawl forward into the tunnel after he placed the phial safely back in his pocket. It was difficult for Frodo, and they were halfway through when he lost consciousness again. Sirius, who had been moving backwards in front of the hobbit in case this should happen, grabbed him by the collar with his teeth and pulled him out backwards.

Upon reaching fresh air again he rested a moment, then looked about. It was dark; stars shimmered above them. He and Frodo were in a deep hole, as he'd expected, but the sides weren't steep. He was thankful that Voldemort's underground headquarters was in such an unvisited and overgrown part of the cemetery, for it appeared that no one had been there during the day.

Unwilling to drag Frodo all the way back to Number Twelve, he slid his neck under the hobbit and flipped him onto his back. He had to move rather slowly, but at least he could move more easily and without hurting Frodo.

Making it up the slope without Frodo sliding off his back was a bit of a trick, but not overly so. After that, the going was easy. He arrived at Number Twelve, and knocked awkwardly with one massive paw. He barked.

Molly opened the door and leapt back. "What on earth…!"

Sirius pushed inside and lowered to the ground so Frodo could slide off. Remus emerged from the kitchen, and grinned widely as Sirius transformed back. "I knew you were alright!" he said happily.

Molly smiled warmly. "Remus has already told us everything," she said, and to Sirius's surprise, hugged him. "We're all so glad…" She wiped away a tear.

Sirius smiled back, but then knelt and gently picked up Frodo. "Where…"

"Here, Sirius, give him to me," said Aragorn, hurrying to him. "Praise Eru, Sirius, I can't believe…thank you." He took Frodo in his arms and carried him to his room.

Frodo and Sam's room, being the nearest to the door, had been transformed into a makeshift sickroom. Though it had been busy earlier, now only a few people rested inside it. Harry, having been forced to take a sleeping potion, was resting peacefully on a bed near the window. Merry and Sam sat uneasily with Pippin, whose arm now hung in a sling. By the far wall Ginny's eyes were closed and her breathing deep. Although she could have very well slept in her own room, Molly, being well, Molly, had insisted she stay in the improvised infirmary. Ron and Hermione had been shepherded from the room and strictly sent off to bed.

Upon entering with Frodo's battered form resting limply in his arms, Aragorn was rushed by three worried faces. He hushed them and strode past to lay Frodo on the bed opposite Harry's. He looked up and his eyes met Legolas. "My friend," he said. "Warm water, please, and a basin, if it isn't any trouble."

The elf smiled warmly and placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "It will be done," he said, and departed to do as asked.

"Mr. Frodo, Frodo, wake up, sir," said Sam, voice shaking. He glanced upward. "What's the matter with him?"

Aragorn frowned and reached behind him to grab his leather bag. "Merry, go find Sirius," he said.

"I'm here," said Sirius from where he stood by Harry's bedside. He walked over to Aragorn.

"Sirius, how long has he been unconscious?" the king asked, studying the back of Frodo's head.

"He's come around twice since I found him, as much as I know," Sirius answered.

"Several hours then…" Aragorn muttered worriedly, but a few moments later relief washed over his features as he completed his examination. "I believe he will be all right. From what I can tell, Frodo has suffered no concussion. The wound will need to be stitched, though."

Soft footfalls announced the return of Legolas, who had brought a small basin of the requested water. Aragorn smiled thankfully as the elf set the basin on an end table. Aragorn then took a few athelas leaves from his bag and crushed them into the water, the scent instantly calming everyone. Taking a cloth, the former ranger began to wash dirt and grime from Frodo's bruised and bloodied body, revealing pallid skin. Sam handed him a clean nightshirt and Frodo was dressed in the soft fabric.

That done, the king turned the hobbit on his stomach to better reach his head. He gently scoured the wound and the area around it. Luckily, he did not have to shave the area. Taking a needle and thread, he sewed the skin back together. Thankfully, Frodo stirred only a little, and did not appear to feel much pain. Aragorn turned him onto his back again, and placed soft sheets over Frodo's body.

"Aragorn, if it's only a small head wound, why won't he wake up?" asked Pippin, eyes shining.

"The past few days have been difficult for Frodo. He has had an arduous trial, and both his body and mind are exhausted. As well as lack of sleep, he has not had much to eat for quite some time. I shall have food for him when he wakes."

"But there's nothin' else wrong with him?" Sam asked, dubious but hopeful.

Aragorn smiled gently. "He has a slight fever, but it is nothing serious. He will be all right, Sam."

The hobbit tried to smile back, but was interrupted by an enormous yawn. He swayed slightly on his feet. "Sorry, Mr. Strider, I'm just a bit--" He yawned again.

"All of you should get some rest. Pippin, you are free to go. I want the three of you to go into Merry and Pippin's room and get some rest."

The hobbits shook their heads. "No, we want to stay with Frodo," Merry said solidly.

Pippin nodded. "We won't leave him," he agreed, though he held onto Merry with his good arm to keep from falling over in exhaustion.

"I will wake you if there is any change in Frodo's condition," Aragorn reassured.

"But, Aragorn--"

"Peregrin Took, I know that Aragorn is often very easy on you hobbits, but that does not allow you to deny a direct order," said Gandalf, who had just arrived beside them.

"Gandalf, we--"

"Meriadoc, take your cousin and get some rest. When Frodo awakes I will come for you."

Merry sighed and nodded, then began to lead Pippin from the room. Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "And you as well Samwise," he said. "You need as much rest as Frodo does."

Sam shook his head firmly. "No sir, beggin' your pardon, Mr. Gandalf, but I won't leave him when he might need me."

"You will not do Frodo any good if you make yourself ill, Samwise," Gandalf said.

"Please, Mr. Gandalf, don't make me leave him."

"Lie down beside him then, Sam," said Aragorn. "Your presence may bring him comfort, I sense confusion and fear within him. He trusts you, Sam, more than most others."

Sam nodded and crawled up beside his master. He was barely able to utter a thank you before his eyes closed.

"I have never seen two friends with such care for each other," Aragorn said, observing the two hobbits.

"Like brothers, they are," said Gandalf, nodding. "They always were, ever since Frodo came to Bag End with Bilbo." The wizard chuckled slightly. "Of course, if I remember correctly, Frodo was the one looking out for Sam." He paused a moment, lost in reminiscence. Then he asked, "How is he, truly, Aragorn?"

Aragorn's demeanor darkened, an he frowned. "Medically, he is fine. It is most fortunate that he did not suffer greater injuries."

There was silence a moment longer. "However…?" Gandalf suggested.

Aragorn shook his head sadly. "I told you about the decision he made, did I not?"

Gandalf nodded. "You did."

The king sighed. "The choice was free will. Remus warned me earlier about the Imperius Curse, but when I spoke to Frodo and looked into his eyes, I knew it was him speaking, not some deceptive lie."

"Yet you wonder if the decision Frodo made affected him in some way?"

"You and I both know there is no evil within him, and it is not evil I sense. Frodo is confused, unsure of himself. He is not evil, but by making the choice to join Voldemort he feels unclean, impure. He does not know whose side he is on. When I found him underground, he insisted that we leave, that he remain behind. I saw in his eyes the doubt and fear, the unwillingness to say such things. His heart lies with us, but he feels his allegiance lies with Voldemort."

Gandalf nodded again. "I feel such things within him as well, Aragorn. Frodo is lost, but he will find his way if we guide him."

Aragorn lowered himself into a chair beside the bed. "I will stay with him tonight."

The wizard shook his head. "No, Aragorn, you have had no rest either. I will watch over the hobbits."

Aragorn smiled, stood and left the room quietly. Gandalf sat in the armchair and took Frodo's hand, promising silently to guide the hobbit back to them.

TBC...REVIEW!


	14. Council and Confrontation

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: Nothing do I own. I asked JKR for Sirius, because she's not doing anything with him at the moment, but she was selfish and wouldn't let me have him.

**Author's Note: THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ. I, BRAELLYRALEATHERLEAF, WILL NO LONGER BE CONTINUEING THIS FIC! **This is not on account of merely not wanting to continue. I have very much enjoyed writing Scars, as much as I hope you have enjoyed my writing. There are only a few reasons for my discontinuation, the main reason being the releaseof HBP. As much as I know you readers did not care that the fic is, I suppose, "out-dated", once book 6 came out I just didn't think I could. This probably seems really stupid, and it is, but for whatever reason when I tried to write I couldn't. The words just wouldn't come. The second reason for the discontinuation is that with school coming, I simply won't have time. It's all challenge classes for me this year, and I really want to get involved in clubs, ect, as well as do more outside of school.  
**BUT NO FEAR!**  
This is not the end of Scars of the Future, I wouldn't do that to you. Animgus-Spirit has eagerly agreed to continue it herself. I myself think it's probably better this way anyway, not to put myself down, but she honestly has more of a connection, so to speak, to the HP as well as LOTR characters. You won't be disappointed. Also, I will still be writing parts of chapters, because I love this story and still want to be part of it! **SCARS OF THE FUTURE WILL STILL CONTINUE TO BE POSTED UNDER MY PENNAME, JUST TOREDUCE CONFUSION, AND AT ANIMAGUS'S REQUEST.**  
As a closing, I want to thank each and every one of my wonderful reveiwers. I cannot express enough how much your kind words mean to me. Thanks a million, blessings to you all.

My last thanks to my reviewers...

coolmarauders- Angst is my specialty. Here's one big, final thank you for all your reviews!

UK All The Way- Writing Sirius in his dog form was lots of fun! (I am a HUGE dog person!) Although the last 2 chapters I wrote were by far my favorites, sadly, further updates won't be from me. Thanks so much for every single one of your kind reviews, it's been so much fun!

LATMC- Yes, I love Sirius too! The Bellatrix scene was fun, just like the rest of this story has been…It's a little sad to hand it over to Animagus, but I believe it's for the best. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your reviews. They've been a great encouragement and usually made my day. : ). Thanks again!

HorseGal74- Thanks for the review. I've had fun writing this fic, but for reasons listed above will not, be continuing it myself.

Ladydeathcat- The LOTR characters have always been easy for me to write. It's the Harry Potter characters that give me the most trouble, at least in this story. Thanks a bunch!

Yusagi- Very glad you're enjoying it! Only the first 13 chapters are written by me, though.

Brownie/Melody- I love making things horrible for Frodo, I'm just terrible…as you've found out by now, I won't be writing this anymore. Thanks for all your reviews, maybe we'll "meet" again sometime in this vast world of fanfiction, lol.

Suuki-Aldrea- It makes me glad to see you care so much for Scars of the Future. I thought the end of HBP was sad, too. You still have this story, but I won't be writing the majority of it. Thank you for all your reviews!

**Author's note:** Hi! This is Animagus-Spirit…I've taken over this fic, (PLEASE DON'T LEAVE!) The first part of this chapter (up until the :SB:SB:) is Braellyra's.

* * *

Chapter 14: Council and Confrontation

It was only a few short hours later that Frodo's eyes fluttered open once again. The room was shrouded in darkness and for a fleeting moment he thought he was still trapped underground, but upon a second thought he realized that wasn't right. The air was too clear, and he was much too comfortable. He could see somewhat, anyway, unlike the complete cave-darkness where eyesight is useless.

The second thing he became aware of was his own terrible thirst. It seemed ages since he had had a drink of anything. He tried to sit up, but this caused pain to erupt in his head. Frodo gasped and promptly lowered himself back down.

A hand was placed on his brow. "Not so hastily, Frodo. The worst of your injuries have been tended but it is not expected that you should not feel any pain."

Frodo smiled feebly. "Hello, Gandalf."

The wizard smiled. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts a little, and I'm rather thirsty, but I'm all right."

From a pitcher on the table beside him Gandalf poured a glass of water for the hobbit. He helped Frodo into a sitting position and handed him the glass. Frodo drank eagerly. When he was finished, he said, "Did the others make it out in time?"

Gandalf chuckled quietly. "Be at peace, Frodo. Everyone has arrived back here without any great trouble. Sam sleeps soundly beside you, if you need to be ascertained of it. The only person who did not arrive above ground before the collapse was you, my dear hobbit."

"It's all a blur in my mind," Frodo said. "I can remember clearly running, and then falling, and then only darkness."

"As soon as Aragorn discovered you were absent he realized his folly. He, with Sam, went on and found the others above ground. His intention was to go back for you, but this he never succeeded in doing. Sirius Black went in his place, found you, and kept you from harm when the structure collapsed. He then tunneled out and carried you back here."

"But I thought he was--"

"Dead, yes, Frodo, as we all believed, and in that we were correct. It was the Valar, in fact, who brought him back to us."

"Then the man Harry went with really was him?"

Gandalf shook his head. "No, Frodo. That man was not the real Sirius, it was one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, who took his form."

The pieces fitted together in Frodo's mind, and he understood. There was just one more thing to be asked.

"I thought there was a dog, in the tunnel, who brought me out, but you just told me Sirius did. How can that be?"

"Indeed there was a dog, Frodo, but the dog was Sirius. He has the ability to transform into it at will."

Frodo nodded and yawned. "I see."

"Rest, Frodo. There will undoubtedly be an Order meeting tomorrow, and they will wish you to attend."

Frodo sank back into the pillows, eyes already closing.

"Frodo?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Forgive me, I feel I have not been here when you have been in need of me," Gandalf said softly.

"There is nothing to forgive, Gandalf," said Frodo, and drifted into sleep.

:SB:SB:

Dawn softly flooded in through the curtains of Frodo's room as he slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was Sam. Already he had brought Sam into many dangers, and every time it had been a close call for the both of them. He wondered if his loyal servant and friend knew that, he too, worried for him all the time.

As the larger hobbit began to stir, Frodo arranged his thoughts in his head for the upcoming meeting. He felt a new warmth of strength in his body, and began to rise steadily from the soft covers of his bed.

After an enormous, steaming breakfast of steaming biscuits with marmalade, fat, juicy, sausages, and eggs benedict, Frodo waited patiently to be summoned upon for the meeting. Soon enough, he found himself seated next to Legolas in what was once the sitting room of the house. He was relieved to see that he was not the last to arrive, for a moment later Sirius casually strolled in. In the corner of his eye, Frodo noticed Severus Snape sneering and livid at this. Sirius apparently showed the same disdain, but sent him a smirk, causing the potions master's glare to grow even fiercer.

Ignoring the exchange by the two men, Dumbledore opened the meeting. "Much has happened since our last meeting," he spoke. "Most have been victories, but we now come to the matter of where Voldemort has moved, and where one our members has disappeared."

Swift, worried glances shot around at the news of the disappearance, waiting for Dumbledore to continue.

"It has recently come to my attention that Nymphadora Tonks is no longer, and has not been, residing in St. Mungos."

At these words, Frodo noticed Remus's face grow considerably paler.

"A death eater by the name of Boyer was found in her place yesterday. Test results revealed he had been using the polyjuice potion. It has not been revealed where she is located, yet I fear it may be in the clutches of Voldemort."

Remus's heart shook. He should have noticed something when he had visited her… It all became clear to him now.

Walking up the steps to the Magical Injuries Floor, Remus felt his palms sweat. It had been a week since he had last visited her due to Order work. She had seemed different, yet he had just attributed it to the injuries. As he drew nearer to her room, he noticed someone inside. It was a man, seemingly in his mid-twenties, with short platinum hair. He was talking softly with her and handed her something. Pulling back, Remus sighed. He should have known better. There was someone involved. He had pulled away somewhat after Sirius's death, and she had moved on. Footsteps began clacking on the lavender linoleum, as the young man began to make his way out of the room. Sighing, Remus looked in once more to see her smiling; then he turned around without a word and departed the building.

His mind suddenly shot to the incident with Harry. It had to have been a metamorphagus that led him there. People with the ability were extremely rare…It was her…The Imperius curse…His mind jumped again. The collapsing.. Who knew how many had been killed? She must have gone back to deliver Harry. God, she had to have escaped…

Remus's tired eyes shot up as he noticed the members of the Order staring worriedly at him. Slowly, he began the tale.

* * *

After Remus shared his account, the meeting adjourned for a period to think over actions to be taken. Frodo felt Snape swish over to the remaining Marauders.

"So, it seems as if you want us to drop everything to go search for your girlfriend," Snape sneered nastily.

Sirius quickly spun around. "Bugger off…" he growled, pointing his wand at the greasy-haired man.

"Well, it seems like nothing has changed since you returned," commented Snape smoothly. "I would have thought death would have taught you some sense, but I am obviously mistaken. Still eager to go out and get yourself killed again. Hopefully this time you won't be as lucky."

Sirius, listening to this like a ticking bomb, exploded, pinning Snape against the nearest wall. "I'm not sure Snivellus. By the way you're acting, I would be led to suspect you're the one with a death wish!" he spat.

Severus, seemingly unfazed, continued. "It's your fault, you know. Your rashness almost cost us this war. The whole ordeal with the capture wouldn't have happened if you hadn't insisted on coming." He smirked silkily.

By now, Snape's back was so hard against the wall, he could barely move, but with the last comments, he was almost crushed. "Don't you ever…" whispered Sirius, boiling with rage.

"Stop," spoke Remus harshly. "Do you think this is going to help anyone?"

Sirius sent an angry glance at Remus, but grudgingly released the Potions Master, who sent one last triumphant smirk before exiting the room.

Frodo, completely ignored as he watched the scene play out, decided that this would in fact, not be a particularly good time to thank Sirius for saving his life, and decided to take up the important task of an afternoon nap until the meeting commenced once more.

* * *

When the meeting resumed, an air of tenseness hung in the air. Albus Dumbledore's eyes scanned the faces of the members, sensing that though they were urgent to attempt to rescue Tonks, they were finding difficulty thinking up a way to do it.

After several moments of silence, Dumbledore spoke. "Due to recent events, the remaining of Lord Voldemort's followers will have moved to a new location. I have almost complete confidence that is the place Tonks can be found," he spoke calmly.

"Now we must concentrate our efforts on finding this hideaway." At this last sentence his sparkling blue eyes locked with the cold black ones of Severus.

* * *

Minutes later, the Order members could be seen filing out of the meeting and returning to their respective posts. Severus Snape didn't stop as he met Dumbledore.

"Professor," he began calmly.

Dumbledore's eyes glinted knowingly. "You wish to ask why you are being sent as our current spy when Mr. Baggins has been branded with the dark mark also?"

Nodding silently Snape awaited the elderly wizard's answer. At times the headmaster seemed able to read minds.

"You have already gained the trust of the Dark Lord over many years, Severus." He started. "Frodo, meanwhile, has just been added and has already proven his possible vulnerability to the enemy's tricks. He must be prepared for the sort of things he will face before he returns. In time, he will join you in this fight."

With one last icy glance at Dumbledore, Severus slunk off into the shadows.

For what he faces… he thought. He doubted Dumbledore understood what that meant.

* * *

Following the meeting, Sam, Merry, and Pippin met Frodo and immediately began pummeling him with questions of what had occurred below the ground. Despite the vivid curiosity of the others, one thought, and one thought only rested in the gardener's mind.

They better not be askin' him to go about and put himself in danger again! This is some sneaky business we've been gettin' ourselves into…

If anything like that were to happen, Sam knew he may be furious at the Order, or whoever the cause of it was, but he would do anything to stay by his master's side. He'd beg to have the dark mark branded deep into his flesh, if that meant he could help. He'd be willing to face perils every day until he died, and even death he would take to spare Frodo's life.

TBC

A/N (again): Sorry this chapter was so short. Like I said, I'm new at writing whole chapters for this fic, and can be compared to a young foal learning to stand. :-P. Please give feedback. Hope you enjoy this!


	15. Regret and Repercussion

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

**Author's Note II:** This tale came very close to being neglected. However, it made it through. I know last chapter I said AS was writing the rest, but I think it's still going to be me, with bits of it here and there by her. There's no telling what might happen, lol.

Oh, and thanks to all who reviewed for last chapter! I'd respond, but I just want to get this posted because I'm running out of time here! I'll get back, don't worry!

I did, however, want to comment back to **Arwen**: Thanks a billion for your suggestions in your review from last chapter, they were helpful. It is simpler for me to write about the Fellowship than the Harry Potter characters, I don't really know why. I will trying to furthur involve Legolas and Gimli, and I truly didn't mean for Legolas to be a "servant" even though as you pointed out, he was. LoL. There's also a good reason as to how Voldemort and his Death Eaters survived, to be explained later. Please forgive me, I'm new with chapter fics, and tend to forget things... Sword fights, don't worry, all in good time, I promise. Thanks once more!

* * *

Chapter 15: Regret and Repercussion 

Frodo stood in the doorway of his room and cleared his throat. Sirius looked up from his station by the still-unconscious Harry's bedside. A hint of a tired smile turned the corners of his mouth up. Frodo stepped into the room.

"Good evening," he said.

Sirius nodded. "How are you feeling?"

Frodo found a spare chair, pulled it forward and sat down. "Better than I have been," he stated.

"Glad to hear it," Sirius replied, but he glanced at Harry as he did, something Frodo failed to miss.

"He'll be all right," he consoled.

Sirius snorted. "That's what they all say."

"And you don't believe it?"

The man fell silent a moment. "No. I mean, I do, but I just--"

"--worry. I know." Frodo smiled and Sirius returned the gesture.

"Sirius, I wanted to thank you for--"

"You don't have to," Sirius said, absently rubbing his eyes.

"Tired?" Frodo inquired.

"No," Sirius said, yawning.

"When's the last time you have slept?"

Sirius didn't answer.

"Awhile then. I don't mean to sound like a mother hen, but you should get some rest."

"But Harry-"

"I'll stay with him," Frodo promised. He could tell Sirius felt torn between wanting to stay with his godson and the sweet oblivion sleep swore to provide.

Sirius's shoulders sagged. "Alright, I'll go. Night, Frodo."

"Goodnight."

Sirius strode from the room and shut the door silently behind him. Frodo sighed and leaned back in his chair. He ran his fingers through his hair and flinched as they touched the still sensitive area at the back.

What a mess they had landed themselves in. They had only resided in this alien environment mere weeks and already he had brought the lives of himself and those he cared for into peril. He hadn't forgotten the towering figure in black that had reminded him so vividly of the Nazgul, but Gandalf had called a Dementor. Then the incident at the graveyard. And the dreams…

He could remember them now. Or at least he could remember having them. They were filled with darkness and the incoherent screaming of jumbled and unrecognizable voices. Then there came a blinding flash of light, as if all the stars had burst at once and were shooting their light across the world…and finally his own despairing howl of agony…

He didn't understand, was confused and afraid, for long ago in his past his dreams had sometimes turned dark, and unbeknownst to him until later, had foreshadowed terrible things yet to come…

And they were occurring again.

He pulled back his left sleeve with his right hand and looked upon the Dark Mark. He rubbed his thumb over it, as if only by feeling it could he comprehend its presence on his skin. It's warmth had faded sometime during the previous night, replaced once more by the constant cold he had grown used to over the years. Another scar had now joined the countless others, yet this one he had asked for. He wondered if when he returned home it would still exist, or if it would be gone, as if it had never existed. It was, after all, a scar of the future, of things to come, and the Shire existed long before its making.

"Darkness rose, and darkness fell, and with it so did I…" he whispered.

There was a soft sound at his side. "I'm sorry."

Frodo jumped, almost falling out of his chair, and looked to the side. Harry was sitting up, staring at him in remorse.

"What?"

"I said, I'm sorry," Harry repeated.

"What have you ever done to me?" Frodo asked, confused.

Harry swallowed and inclined his head to Frodo's forearm. "If I hadn't been so stupid…if I hadn't actually believed he was alive, that _that_ was Sirius…none of this should have happened. I've risked everyone's lives, possibly the Order, it's all my bloody fault!"

Frodo blinked and shook his head. "Harry…"

"No, don't! The same thing happened in June! I led everyone into danger because I was too thick to realize I had to learn Occlumency, and then I believed that Sirius was in danger when it was really because of me that he died!"

Frodo looked at Harry with sympathy. '_Harry, if you only knew how akin we are…_' he thought.

"I know how you got that," Harry spat, staring again at the Dark Mark. "I dreamt it. All of it. Because Voldemort wanted us dead, and he only agreed not to kill us because you offered yourself to him. But you don't understand, he would have killed us anyway! That's why he sent you to fetch me, isn't it? He's not blind, Frodo, he knew you'd be disloyal to him, he had the whole thing plotted! Wormtail collapsed the tunnel deliberately, Voldemort told him to. He didn't expect us to escape. But he's still not finished, because he knows you'll go back to him if you want to or not, and he'll use you like he uses everyone until he's won this war! And it's all because I couldn't see the truth!"

For a moment Frodo's mind was filled with images of blood and death and a shudder coursed through him. He hung his head but raised it again to meet Harry's darkened gaze.

"What you have seen in your dreams may or may not be certain. We have no control over what illusions the enemy places into ours minds to sway us to do their will. Voldemort will stop at nothing to achieve what he wants, he will plant seeds of doubt and visions of peace and security behind your eyes as a gardener plants roses until you can no longer decipher the truth from the lies. You will be driven past madness until your only focus will be that one evil, and you will loathe it and love it at once and your will shall succumb to it and you will not remember who you are or from whence you came. You must master it and refuse to believe whatever it tells you, or else you're ailing yourself, and eventually you _will_ lose."

Tears fell from Frodo's face but he did not notice them. "You can't dwell on should haves and could haves--it is the worst thing you can do to yourself. When all this is ended, and evil has either passed or prevailed, your life will forever be a void of eternal darkness if you regret. It will eat you from within."

Frodo stood up and began to leave, but as he reached the door he turned around. "I have. To see such things occur to another would be my downfall."

He passed Sam on his way out, and the latter called after him, but Frodo did not acknowledge that he had heard. He found a backdoor and shoved it open, discovering that it led into a dead sort of yard hardly larger than a pantry. A sad-looking tree stood in one corner, black and dead, but he climbed it nonetheless and sat in its branches, head resting on his knees, weeping for himself and for all those he had ever brought pain upon, and for those, such as Harry, who were so young and yet had already endured far too much. He glared in fury at the abhorrent mark on his arm and wanted at that moment to slice deeply and cut it from his skin.

"Oh…sweet Eru…what have we done?"

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Frodo must have drifted off to sleep, because when he next looked up it was dark and he was cold. A light mist sprinkled the air. He blinked and glanced around. He gratefully noted that he had no company, although quite frankly he was surprised no one had come looking for him.

Something lightly dropped onto his branch and Frodo yelped.

"Forgive me, Cormacolindor, I did not intend to startle you."

Frodo sighed in relief. "That I am no longer, Legolas, though I once was. How long have you been here?"

"Since you have been. I prevented Master Samwise from coming after you with the promise that I would watch over you," the elf explained.

Frodo smiled faintly. "I thank you for that. Sam is a marvel, and the greatest friend I could ask for, yet…"

"It is not only mortals who feel the need for solitude," Legolas said.

Frodo nodded. "Indeed."

Hobbit and elf-prince sat together in peace. Frodo shivered and wrapped his arms around his body. Legolas removed his cloak and offered it to the hobbit.

"Hannon Le," Frodo said, taking it.

"The elves cannot catch cold as you can," Legolas said with a smile.

"What is the time?"

Legolas raised his eyes to the overcast sky. "Four hours past sunset."

"Really? Perhaps we should go in," Frodo offered, but didn't move to do so.

Legolas studied him. "There is much weighing on your mind. Will you not speak of it?"

Frodo gazed deeply into the darkness, not searching for anything nor seeing anything at all. What to say? Where would he begin? But despite everything else he knew that the core of his emotions came from the fear of his nightmares, yet he didn't know how to put their vividness into words.

"I've been dreaming, Legolas. And not pleasant ones."

The elf's brow furrowed in concern but he did not push the matter. "Come," he said, leaping gracefully to the ground. "Let us go back inside before it rains any harder and we become drenched."

Frodo nodded and climbed down after him. Once back inside he went back to his room and laid down on his bed. He could tell that Sam was awake in the bed on his left, for the room was absent of any snoring, but neither said anything to the other and eventually they drifted into sleep.

TBC!


	16. The Eye of the Storm

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: The characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, were created by J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done in script format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

**A/N 2:** Well, apparantly has forbidden replying directly to reviewers in the text of a story, so I've decided I'll just reply when there's a direct question asked via that odd little "reply" button they've added...this stinks... Anyway, getting close to the end now, maybe 3 or 4 more chapters? It makes me sad...here's 16!

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Chapter 16: The Eye of the Storm

Sam entered the kitchen the next morning, sat down next to Frodo, bid his greetings to those seated at the table and helped himself to a steaming plate of food. As he ate he glanced sideways at Frodo and flicked his eyes often from his master to Harry. There existed a tension between them, ground that trembled unsteadily and buzzed a warning that clearly said, "Tread with caution if you must tread at all." Sam decided to keep his nose in his own book.

'Don't go meddlin' in things that aren't of your concern, Samwise, or you'll meddle too much and cause more trouble then's worth it,' he thought to himself.

The rest of the household seemed almost completely at ease, yet beneath outlooks tranquil enough to almost be somnolent, all were poised and ready for something to fall upon them, as a mouse will feel when about in the household of a cat. Still, the conversations were light and friendly, touched with good humor and sprinkled with cheerfulness.

Later in the day, the temporary and makeshift infirmary was cleared out and the room belonged solely to Frodo and Sam once more. Frodo then curled up on the window seat with a book, content to sit alone for a few hours. Sam found Merry and together they sought out something to do. In doing so they found Fred, who was explaining to Pippin the makeup of some of he and George's products. Sam and Merry soon became engrossed in it as well, and the former hobbit wanted to fetch Frodo so that he, too, could see, but Pippin bid him not to. "Frodo would be here if he wanted to," he said. "But I think he'd prefer to be alone just now."

Fred left a bit later for work. "I told George I'd only be gone a little while. Don't think he'll be too thrilled I've overstepped my break…" he said with a wink, then apparated on the spot, something the hobbits had grown used to by now.

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"I think it's just a bit fishy, though, with him having the Dark Mark and all," Ron said. He and Harry had joined Hermione and Ginny in the girls' room. Ginny was sitting cross-legged on her bed, Hermione was in an armchair with a book open on her lap, Harry sat on her bed and Ron sat backwards on the desk chair, arms crossed over the back of it.

Hermione, who had been scanning the pages of her book, glanced up, looking thoughtful. "It is sort of odd. Still, Ron, we don't know all of what happened…you know, down there, Voldemort could have coerced him into it. That's what it seemed like when Aragorn pulled back his sleeve."

"Or he's using the Imperius Curse on him," said Ginny.

"I don't think so," said Hermione. "There's something in his eyes that's truthful. Besides, do you honestly think he would succumb to the Imperius Curse?"

"Why shouldn't he?" Harry asked, and although his voice was edged with bitterness there was an ingenuous curiosity beneath it.

Hermione closed her book and set it aside. She seemed to sit up taller on her seat. "The whole story's a little complex…Frodo carried a ring of sorts, an evil ring. From what I've gathered it put his mind through turmoil and nearly drove him insane, but in the end he managed to destroy it. It had a will of its own, I guess, and tried to bend Frodo to its will, which it did eventually succeed in doing but he fought it for a very long time…That's why I wouldn't expect the Imperius Curse to do him much harm. I think he'd shake it off like Harry would."

Ron snorted. "Sounds like a load of rubbish…evil rings…seems like something Dad would be interested in, though."

Hermione put on a look of annoyance. "Think that if you want, Ron, just don't go around saying that to Frodo or anyone else from his time."

Ginny spoke again. "I don't think he's bad at all. He's the one who helped us find Harry, after all."

"And how did he know where to find Harry, exactly?" Ron shot back.

"He said he dreamt it, or something," Ginny responded.

"See? You-Know-Who could have been using him like he used Harry."

"How would he have known about Frodo, though? Or any of the Fellowship, for that matter?" Ginny argued.

Ron shrugged. "He's You-Know-Who, why wouldn't he?"

"I don't think he's a Death Eater because he wanted to be, and I don't think he was forced to, either," said Harry. The others turned to him.

"He is because if he hadn't agreed to become one, Voldemort would have killed all of us."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. "He would have anyway, and Frodo should have known that," said Ron.

Harry nodded. "What would any of you have done?" he asked them. When they gave no reply, he said, "But I think Voldemort set the whole thing up. He knew you would come after me, and he meant to kill you as well as me. I don't think he knew about Frodo and the others, or about Sirius being alive. The tunnel collapsing was deliberate; once he realized Lupin and the others had arrived, I guess it was more than he'd bargained for. He tried to get all of us with one blow. Wormtail never did anything, that was just Voldemort laying it on him so we wouldn't know."

"But how did Voldemort get out then?" said Ginny.

"Apparated," said Ron, and Ginny looked as if she wanted to slap herself. "I guess the other Death Eaters did, too."

"Harry, how do you know all of this?" Hermione asked.

"The same way Frodo knows what he tells us," he said indifferently.

"You're having visions?" asked Ginny.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe."

There was silence for a moment as everyone interpreted all of this new information. Harry then stood up and stretched. "I'm going to go find Sirius," he said.

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Sirius was sitting at the kitchen table with Remus and Gimli. The three were eating sandwiches and laughing about something when Harry walked in. Molly Weasly was sitting at the other end of the table, reading the _Daily Prophet._

"Hey, Harry!" Sirius said. "Pull up a chair and grab a sandwich."

Harry abruptly noticed his gurgling stomach and did just that. He took a glass and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice from a pitcher next to the plate of sandwiches on the table.

"What was so funny?" he asked.

"Gimli's just been telling us tales from his home," Remus explained.

"And a fine home it is!" Gimli boomed. "You'd never be able to imagine such a fine place, laddie. Though, I can't say I've been there in quite some time."

"Why's that?" Sirius asked.

Gimli released a bark of laughter. "Been away, 'aven't I? . First the business with the Ring, then off tramping around in caves and forests with that sardonic elf! Now I'm here with you cheery folk. But I'd like to return there someday, just to see it again."

"One would think you would have learned to hold your tongue about those who could be nearby after your experience in Lorien."

Gimli whirled around. Legolas, Aragorn, and Gandalf had entered the kitchen. "Legolas! You can't walk in on a bloke just like that!"

The others in the room laughed (besides Molly, who had left a few minutes before) and helped themselves to some well-earned comforts.

"And what have you three been up to?" The dwarf asked roughly.

"Discussing amongst ourselves what could possibly be done about this dismal war we mean to fight in," said Aragorn.

"What are we doing about it?" Harry asked abruptly.

"We are not entirely sure as of yet, I suppose the first thing to be done would be to discover Voldemort's new headquarters," Aragorn said.

"There'll be an Order meeting as soon as Severus returns. He left just last night to try and find where it is," Remus announced.

Harry snorted. "Still don't trust him?" Sirius asked, then chuckled when Harry nodded. "Neither do I. But if he's good enough for Dumbledore then he'll have to do."

"There's someone else we could use," Harry pointed out, albeit vaguely. He looked up and met Aragorn's gaze. The King look slightly surprised, but not as if he had not expected it.

"That is true," said Gandalf. "And I do believe Albus has considered the advantage of Frodo's position. I daresay his time will come shortly."

"We'll all have a part to play in the end," said Remus. "Large or small."

The companions in the room fell to their own thoughts after this statement, pondering odds and probabilities and chances of survival, although no one spoke allowed. No one wanted to dampen the hopeful atmosphere with dark thoughts of failure and loss.

* * *

TBC


	17. A Plan Is Devised

Scars of the Future 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

I just want to apologize again in the update delay. There're only a few more chapters, so updates should come sooner. I've had some computer problems, but it's all good now. Also, thanks for all the reviews, this time around I promise I'll reply. Cross my heart, swear to die, no eye poking with needles though, because that's just gross.

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Chapter 17: A Plan Is Devised

Merely a week's peace was granted to those dwelling inside Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, a short week that ended during the night five days after Serverus Snape's departure from the premises. He returned in a torrent of rain and resentment, slamming the front doors open and causing the Mrs. Black's portrait to wail. His cloak billowed around him and his face appeared gaunt in the fading light. He was a fearsome sight to behold, though he stormed in limping and silent as the grave.

Immediately he sent a letter by owl to Dumbledore, and the wizard must not have been far, for he arrived within a matter of hours and without any ado called an Order meeting to be held in the kitchen. In a scurrying of feet and half-hearted attempts to prevent eavesdropping, all arrived, some bewildered at having only recently awakened, some somnolent yet still alert as they awaited for things to come to order.

Dumbledore stood near the fireplace, facing the tousle-haired group all either sitting or standing in various positions around the table. He wore an expression of triumph and weariness, and his age evident to all present. He had the look of a man who bore a great weight on his shoulders, but nonetheless continued to manage it, for he had no other choice. His blue eyes traveled from person to person.

"It appears that Voldemort's headquarters have been discovered. Ironically enough, it seems he has returned to the Riddle House, the home of his childhood," Dumbledore explained.

"The Riddle House?" said Sirius in disbelief. "But why would he choose a place so obvious?"

"There are two solutions to that," said Remus, "Although one seems unlikely. Voldemort could have assumed that we would overlook the Riddle House as too simple a solution, or—"

"Or he wants us to find him. He may have a trap set for us that he will spring once we have fallen victim to his bait," said Aragorn.

Remus nodded. "Precisely."

"Could it be neither of these?" said Legolas. "It could be that Voldemort means to lead us on a useless goose chase, until his moment is right and he may leap out and destroy us."

"Legolas is right. This wizard isn't a fool, he'll expect us to expect things of him," said the dwarf.

A murmur swept through the room. A tick was pulsing in Snape's temple. He stepped forward. "I _saw_ him!" he hissed. "He's in there with his Death Eaters. The windows are boarded up and the door locked, but I assure you all, _he is there!_"

The murmur that had sounded before was replaced by a hush. Dumbledore alone seemed calm and unafraid. "My friends," he said. "This may be our chance to end Voldemort's reign, but we must act quickly and efficiently in order to do so, and we will need strength in numbers and in stealth."

Dumbledore made eye contact with every person in the room.

"Well…what's the idea, then?" prompted Arthur Weasly, placing an arm around his wife's shoulders.

Dumbledore's eyes found the one they sought. "Sirius, do you still have that two-way mirror?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, well, I have one of them. Harry had the other, but he told me he'd broken it…"

"Material possessions can be repaired, if we still have the pieces. Go find Harry now and see if you two can't find them."

"Potter's right outside the door," Moody growled, eye staring through the polished oak. "No, not listening, I put enchantments on that door, but he's waiting, at least."

Sirius opened the door and spoke to Harry a moment, who they could then hear running up the stairs and then above their heads. He returned a moment later, shards of glass in his hands. He dropped them onto the table, and Dumbledore fixed the mirror easily.

"Excellent," he said. "Now, Harry, if you would…"

"Can't I—" Harry started, but Dumbledore shook his head, and Harry, looking as if he had missed a great treat, left the kitchen and closed the door.

"Now, a two-way mirror, for those of us who do not know, works like this: you simply say the name of the person you wish to speak with, and if that person has the mirror it can be done. This mirror, if I am correct, only works for you, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded.

"Indeed. Frodo, I think you know what I am about to ask of you."

The hobbit nodded solemnly. "And I will do it."

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Now, listen to what I'm presenting to you…"

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Frodo sat on his bed. Well, he didn't own it, his own bed rested empty back in Bag End, awaiting his return. He wanted nothing more now than to return home, and then thought with a pang that he may never have the change to do so.

He had lost track of time as fear had settled into his heart. He had marched through Morder, to the heart of evil bearing a trinket of such malevolence as to drive one mad, but he had never truly faced Sauron. And now he was to march to the birthplace of another evil bearing a scar proving his enslavement to face its maker. Before, under the cemetery, his anger had left no room for fear, and there had been no time to be afraid anyway. But here, now, he had nothing to be angry about and he had all the time in the world to think about what may or may not happen, and his mind raced with possibilities and his body shook in terror.

Harry came in after a few minutes. He apologized for his actions the night before, and Frodo did likewise, and all conflict between them vanished. Harry knew what would transpire the next evening, Sirius had told him. Dumbledore had granted him that much, knowing that if Voldemort was, indeed, defeated, Sirius would be with them no longer, and Harry should know what would happen.

Frodo eventually drifted into a fitful sleep, and awoke with a start at the newest nightmare. He could almost remember it, but even as he strove to, it disappeared again into the dark. Unable to sleep again, he stood up and left the room in search of Gandalf. The wizard was not asleep in his room, but was, in fact, sitting at the kitchen table, smoking his pipe.

He glanced up as Frodo entered the room, and his eyes spoke of a thousand sorrows and the weight of an intolerable guilt.

"Ah, Frodo. I felt you would seek my council tonight," Gandalf said, his smile not reaching his eyes.

The hobbit nodded sadly and sat beside his friend. "Yes, but perhaps not for the reason you think."

Frodo's fingers tapped on the table anxiously. He let out a breath. "I've been dreaming lately, Gandalf. Dreams such as I've never dreamt before, but once I awaken I cannot remember anything of them but darkness and light."

"These are not dreams of the Quest, then."

Frodo shook his head. "No."

"Tell me of them, Frodo. When did they begin?" Gandalf said, eyebrows furrowing.

"I had one or two after leaving Bag End, but they've been strongest since we arrived here, I suppose," Frodo stated.

"Describe them to me, Frodo, as best as you can."

Frodo's voice rang with hollowness when he finally spoke. "When they begin I am walking in darkness, a corridor, I think, although I cannot be certain. Silence presses in around me, until I suddenly hear screaming. I move quickly, and the sound grows louder, and I realize there are many voices, all jumbled and unable to discern from one another. I become very afraid, and continue to move faster. I round a bend, and there is a blinding flash of light. Then I scream, and it is a scream of complete agony and loss." Frodo sighed. "There's more, because I know when I awaken that there is a further explanation for why I'm so shaken, but the moment I open my eyes the dream fades."

Gandalf looked thoughtful. "Frodo, have you had dreams of this sort before?"

The hobbit nodded. "Yes, I have. Before the deaths of my parents I had many nightmares, and I could never remember anything about them but darkness and screaming. They came back soon before Sam's mother passed, and strongest periodically on the Quest, though whether that was the Ring's doing or not, I do not know."

"At what points during the Quest?" Gandalf inquired.

Frodo thought a moment. "As we were nearing Moria. They stopped after you fell, then came back again when we left Lothlorien. After that they ceased altogether, and only in the past weeks have they returned."

Worry clouded Gandalf's features. He spoke next with a voice of harshness demanding a quick answer, and Frodo could sense fear behind the wizard's sure outlook. "In your dream, Frodo, what color was the light?"

Frodo seemed taken-aback by the question. He pressed his fingers into his eyelids. "Blue, I think…no, wait, it's green."

"Green, Frodo? Are you sure?"

The hobbit nodded. "Why? What does it mean?"

The wizard moved his eyes from the fire blazing under the mantle to Frodo's blue orbs. "There exists in this time a curse," he said, "that can end life within moments. When a wizard uses this curse on another, the light emitted from his wand shines green."

Realization dawned on Frodo as the sun does on the earth. "No…" he groaned.

"We are at war, Frodo," Gandalf said, voice dripping in sadness. "Undoubtedly, there will be casualties."

Frodo shook his head. "I have dreams of foresight, visions of death, and yet nothing can be done to stop it…"

"It is cruel, yes. But there exists a set path for each of us, and once that path has been taken our lives will end. Can you prevent that, Frodo?"

"If only I knew who, perhaps--"

Gandalf set down his pipe on the scrubbed wooden table. "No, Frodo. It is not for us to know who and when. If it were, then your dreams would have shown you. Imagine if we knew everything that would happen to us in our futures, every humiliation, every hurt, every loss…we would spend our entire lives avoiding those things and therefore our lives would be without purpose, spent running from the very cores of our destinies. We would revolve everything around avoiding those dark moments and waste a lifetime."

Frodo's demeanor darkened. "But is that not what we are doing now? Toying with our futures?"

"Perhaps, but do you feel that this is wrong?"

"No," the hobbit admitted with a sigh.

"You should sleep, Frodo, tomorrow will not be easy," Gandalf said, placing a hand on the hobbit's shoulder.

"Tomorrow…Gandalf, I fear tomorrow."

The wizard bent to Frodo's height. "I will do all that is within my power to prevent ill fates from falling, although, if it is the will of the Valar, they will push me aside to accomplish their tasks."

The hobbit nodded. "I will attempt to sleep, Gandalf, but you must as well."

"If it will put your mind further at ease," said Gandalf.

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TBC. Review and I'll be your best friend! 


	18. The Return

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

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Chapter 18: The Return

Despite all encouragement from Sam the next morning, Frodo found he could not eat. His stomach had twisted itself into a knot of anxiety, and fear's cold fingers had wrapped themselves around his throat, making it difficult to swallow. He excused himself from the table and returned to his room, where he sat awhile until his nerves forced him up again. Thus, he spent the day wandering aimlessly throughout the house. Some of the others tried to speak to him, offer words of comfort or encouragement, but he could not comprehend them. Still others offered looks of sadness or hope, some just nodded. Frodo couldn't decide whether he wanted company or not.

By nightfall he had somehow come to see the situation, and had managed to pull himself together well enough. He stood with Gandalf and Sam in the entrance hallway, bidding his farewells the others gathered around them. But when he spoke to those closest to him, his words felt empty. Promises of hope and words of assurance seemed meaningless. He felt like a liar.

Sirius handed him one of the mirrors and with a thankful nodFrodo slipped it into his pocket, comforted slightly by its insignificant weight alongside Sting and the Lady's glass. "Thank you, Sirius," he said. "Thank you for everything."

"Don't talk like it's goodbye forever, Frodo. I'll be joining you soon," he said, in an attempt to sound cheerful.

"And Merry and I will too, Frodo, you know that."

"I know, Pippin, but I wish you wouldn't. I would hate to see you and Merry, as well as Sam, come to harm because of me."

"We won't, Mr. Frodo. I reckon we've been through worse," Sam said hopefully and firmly.

"Besides, Cousin, we're bringing ourselves into this. Remember, had you gone to Tol Eressea the three of us still would have come," Merry pointed out.

Frodo sighed. It was no use arguing.

Remus led them from the house and down a narrow alleyway. He pointed to a shiny object on top of a pile of garbage. "That can is your portkey. You'll need to touch it within the next two minutes." His eyes were full of anxiety. "Good luck, I'll be seeing you soon."

"Farewell, Remus," said Gandalf. "It has been an honor knowing you."

Remus nodded, clapped a hand on Frodo's shoulder, and turned and walked away, unable to say anything more.

"Well, my dear friends," the wizard said, "let us go."

Frodo and Sam, alongside Gandalf, placed quivering hands on the assigned portkey, and within moments it felt to Frodo as if they were being whisked through the air at an imperceptible speed a hundred times worse than flying on Harry's Firebolt.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Frodo's feet hit the ground hard and he toppled over ungracefully. Once he had regained his footing he looked around. He, Sam, and Gandalf had arrived in another dark alley, although more garbage cluttered this one.

"Come this way Frodo, Samwise, but move quietly! We must not be discovered," Gandalf whispered, striding towards the end of the alley. The hobbits followed him once he made sure the way was clear, and he led them down the street. Under the blanket of night they crept to the outskirts of the town and there they looked out.

"There, Frodo, is your destination," Gandalf said, pointing. Frodo followed his gaze and saw a town smaller than the one they stood just outside of, and on the outskirts of _that_ town was a house that appeared ancient, surrounded by an acre or so of unkempt land. Dread crept back into his heart.

"This is where Sam and I must leave you. From here, you go alone." Although Gandalf's words sounded unkind, his voice was soft and edged with concern. He knelt and embraced the hobbit. "You have much strength within you, Frodo, and you will need all of it before the end. Remember what we spoke of last night—do not fret over what may come to pass. You must focus only on the task at hand."

Frodo nodded and turned to Sam, whose face was white and whose eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Do not fear for me, Sam," he said, pulling him into an embrace. "This is yet another job I must see through to the end, and there is naught that can be done to prevent it. Voldemort will have mercy, and whatever punishment he has for me will be short-lived. I will live to see my way back home to the Shire."

"I know," mumbled Sam, wiping a hand across his eyes. "I just worry about you in there, all alone. I'd much rather be at your side, as it should be, so I can look after you."

"Yes, Sam, and I would want no one at my side but you, but I wouldn't want to endanger you for my sake, and it isn't Albus Dumbledore's will. Do you trust him?"

The younger hobbit nodded. "Aye, I do. He's a kind soul, Mr. Frodo."

"Then what is there to fear? I know I have your trust, so listen to what I say, Sam, don't let yourself regret sending me off alone, for it is not your fault. All right?"

Sam nodded.

"Promise me, Sam."

"I promise, Mr. Frodo, you have my word."

Frodo smiled and embraced him once more. "How are you returning?"

"Albus has prepared another portkey in the alley we have just arrived in that is good within the hour. As soon as Sam and I have set you on your way we will use it to go back to Headquarters," Gandalf said.

"Good. Take care Gandalf, Sam," he said, preparing to leave.

"No, Frodo, it is you who should take care," the Maia stated.

"Farewell, then," said Frodo as he turned and began walking down the path, soon disappearing into the gloom.

Sam let out a shuddering breath. Gandalf looked down at him. "Be at ease, Samwise, Frodo will not be lost. That Baggins stubbornness always seems to pull through for him."

This caused Sam to smile slightly and he nodded and followed Gandalf back to the alleyway where they used an old paper bag to return to Grimmauld Place.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Frodo found the way unobstructed by any sort of hindrances. He met no one on his way, and for that he was grateful. He had enough to worry about without the inquisitive nature of passers-by.

It didn't take long to reach the Riddle House. Frodo crept around in the front yard; trying to look suspicious in the hope that any possibly sentries would spot him. Dumbledore had told him the location of the entrance, for the doors and windows were boarded and locked, but had advised Frodo to stay away. He had also told Frodo to act as if the Order had sent him to spy. It would be dangerous, therefore, if Voldemort knew that the Order knew of the secret and presumably well-hidden entrance.

Frodo stealthily moved into the backyard, stepping over an old, once-white fence. After a minute or so of snooping around he realized that he stood on an overgrown patch of land that had once been a garden. He smiled slightly, thinking how dismayed Sam would be if he beheld the scene.

An unknown force suddenly threw Frodo backwards as invisible cords snapped his arms and legs to his sides. Unable to look anywhere but up, he didn't see his attackers until there stood directly above him. Two faces sneered down at him. He shivered.

"Look here, Nott, looks like we've got us a little sneak, eh?"

The second man, the one called Nott, snickered and looked directly into Frodo's eyes. "Yes, and he's in store for quite a lot of fun."

Using his wand, the first lifted Frodo into the air and propelled the hobbit ahead of him as they entered an old gardening shed. Nott kicked an old watering can aside with his foot and it clattered nosily against the wall.

"Damn it, Nott! Try not to make so much noise, would you?"

"Shut up, Goyle, if you know what's good for you."

Nott pointed his wand at the floor and muttered a spell under his breath. A hole about five feet wide opened up, revealing a steep flight of stairs. Following Nott, Goyle navigated Frodo in front of him as he descended; threatening the hobbit about what he would do to him if he tried anything. Frodo noted his lack of intelligence, for he couldn't do anything in his current state anyway.

Once the trio reached the bottom they walked along a damp tunnel that ran straight for several yards until it branched off in three different directions. They continued going straight, and Frodo assumed that the other two tunnels either led to various other bases, dungeons, or storage areas or they were merely there to lose any possible intruders.

It wasn't long until they were once more going upwards, though on wooden stairs this time instead of stone. At the top Nott unlocked a door, and once they had passed through he closed and re-locked it.

It soon became evident to Frodo that they had entered a house, and he assumed the room they had just left was a cellar. Wooden floorboards were dusty along the walls but clean where feet had walked. Cobwebs hung between the walls and ceiling. Frodo looked down and saw a mouse scurry by. Paint was peeling from the walls and here and there holes had opened in the walls and pink insulation could be seen poking out. Undaunted, yet still afraid, he looked forward and saw that the house consisted of a complex series of hallways and staircases. It wouldn't be difficult to become lost within the maze. The hobbit figured that the house hadn't always been so winding, but had instead been altered my magic for the very purpose of losing unwanted houseguests.

After turning down what seemed like hundreds of hallways and climbing even more staircases, Nott and Goyle began climbing a tight, winding staircase that went around and around in endless circles, ever upward. Frodo looked down and saw only a dark chasm spiraling down into nothingness beyond the feeble railing. He shivered. More and more this place reminded him of Cirith Ungol, but there were more serious issues to fear.

Finally, Nott reached the top and, followed by Goyle, walked into a spacious and empty room. They crossed the room to the other end, opened a door, and walked into another long and empty hallway. Windows lined both sides and when Frodo looked out he realized that they were hundreds of feet above the ground. The tower had, undoubtedly, been concealed with magic to protect it from unwanted eyes. At the end of the hallway was another door. Nott rapped on it three times and a moment later a mouse-like figure, one Frodo recognized as Wormtail from descriptions given by the Order, opened the door and beckonedforthem to enter.

Moonlight streamed in through a large window that covered the entire far wall. Frodo realized with a jolt that tomorrow would mark the full moon, and wondered how Remus would assist the Order when they most needed him. He did not have time to dwell on it, however.

"We have brought the trespasser, My Lord," said Nott importantly.

"Leave us."

The invisible bonds holding Frodo were released and he collapsed onto the floor. He heard Nott, Goyle, and Wormtail's footprints departing from the room and the soft click of the door closing. He looked up and saw for the first time that an overstuffed armchair sat facing the window. A robed figure rose from it and strode to stand before the hobbit.

"So," Lord Voldemort said. "My servant has returned to me. And I sincerely hope that he has a logical explanation for his long delay."

* * *

TBC...


	19. Voldemort's Decree and Frodo's Discovery

Scars of the Future 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

**I decided that since I promised to post this chapter within 5 days after posting the18 and didn't (Computer trouble, I'm really sorry guys) that'd I'd give you a double update. Besides, this chapter's pretty short. And here's the big surprise: Chapters 21 and 22 will also be posted at the same time! Getting close to the end now...eep! Anywho, thanks to all who reviewed. Happy Double Update January 23rd Day! Consider it an early Valentines Day gift.**

* * *

Chapter 19: Voldemort's Decree and Frodo's Discovery

Frodo gazed up into the menacing, scarlet eyes of his enemy, and then bowed his head.

"I am truly sorry, My Lord. If it had been possible, I would have returned to you immediately."

Voldemort flicked his wand and the chair slid across the floor and spun around. Voldemort lowered himself into it.

"You are a fortunate favorite of mine, Baggins. Explain, and if your answer satisfies me I will not punish you."

Frodo moved into a kneeling position, being careful to make himself inferior to Voldemort. "When we were underneath the cemetery, you ordered me to retrieve Harry and bring him to you. I made to do so but was interrupted by several members of the Order. They prevented me from doing so and though I refused, tried to drag me away before the tunnel caved in. I managed to slip away, but something hit my head and I fell unconscious. When I came to a dog was digging us out of the rubble, and I assume he dragged me back to the Order's Headquarters."

"Who were the Order members that infiltrated the tunnels?"

Frodo had hoped he wouldn't ask that question, but as it was he had no choice. "Remus Lupin, Ronald Weasly, Hermione Granger, Aragorn son of Arathorn, my cousins, and Sirius Black."

Voldemort laughed. The sound caused shivers to run down Frodo's spine. "Sirius Black? Sirius Black is dead! I have a metamorphmagus locked away for the very purpose of impersonating him for my own uses!"

Frodo shook his head. "I beg your pardon, My Lord, but he lives. He was killed, yes, but he lives and breathes as if he had never died."

Voldemort looked surprised and angry. "Tell me, Frodo, how did this happen?"

"Ethereal beings were said to have given him a second chance."

"Very well. Continue."

"It took me awhile to recover once I was back at their Headquarters. While there I tried to gain any information I could, but I'm afraid I have none other than what I have just told you. A meeting was held to determine the next course of action, and they sent me as a spy."

"How did they locate this place," Voldemort asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know, My Lord. They refused to tell me anything. I believe perhaps you may have a traitor in your midst."

Voldemort seemed to consider what Frodo had said. "Your tale is believable enough, but Frodo, is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Voldemort's eyes seemed to bore into Frodo's and read his mind. He knew he had to think of something quick. "Wait, I do remember something," he said. "Before I left, I was walking down one of the corridors when I passed Harry Potter's room. He was speaking with Weasly and Granger. Harry and I have become close, and I believe he intends to follow me here."

Voldemort sneered. "You are sure of this?"

"Positive. He will most likely arrive within the week when he has a chance to slip away. I'm sure he has learned of this location." Frodo prayed that no harm would come to Harry on his behalf, and swore to prevent it in any way possible.

Voldemort's sneer dripped in malice. "Well done, Baggins, you have served me well. I give you leave to do as you wish until I summon you. I must make my plans."

Frodo stood and bowed. "As you wish, Master. My life for you." He walked backwards out of the room, closing the door behind him. He didn't let out his breath until he was at the bottom of the spiral staircase, where he sagged against the wall, amazed at how simple it had been.

He knew he had to contact Sirius, but first needed to find a private place to do so. Remembering the tunnels he had entered through, he began retracting the steps Nott and Goyle had taken. Though he lost himself amongst the labyrinth several times, Frodo eventually found his way. He unlocked the cellar door from the inside and stepped through. The dank tunnels were lit with torches that hung on the walls. He found his way to the fork and upon instinct took the left. It had more turns than the main tunnels, and rose and fell more than a few times, but he soon found himself in another hallway lined with prison cells identical to those that had been under the cemetery. It surprised Frodo that no guard was on duty, but didn't see any prisoners, either.

He walked along the empty cells until he came to the end. In the far cell, huddled in the corner, was the form of a young woman. Frodo gasped as it occurred to him who she was.

The bars of the enclosure were not made to contain children or hobbits, and he easily slipped through and walked over to her. He reached out a hand and touched her arm. The woman lifted her head and gazed at him with bleary eyes. Frodo took note of her condition. She was thin—too thin—pale, and had dark circles beneath her grey eyes. Her mossy brown hair was slick with grease.

"W-what?" she said, voice raspy from lack of water and disuse.

"Are you Nymphadora Tonks?" Frodo whispered.

She smiled feebly. "Just Tonks…you look familiar."

He nodded. "You've seen me before, but this isn't the time for explanations. Do you know where you are?"

"Somewhere…Voldemort…"

"Good," he said, smiling in reassurance. "A plan is being put into motion right now to stop him and to free you. Can you hold on a little longer?"

"Yeah, I think I could do that."

Remembering the water flask he carried, Frodo took it from his shoulder and held it out to her. "Here, drink."

Tonks took the flask and drank from it in small sips. "Who are you?" she asked him.

"Frodo Baggins, at your service and your family's," he said, bowing.

"People call me Tonks."

Frodo frowned; concerned that she didn't appear to remember having just told him that. He noticed for the first time that heat seemed to radiate from her skin. He wanted to give her his cloak, but new it would be fatal if any Death Eater saw her wearing it. Instead, Frodo removed the star-shaped pendant from around his neck and placed it in her hand and closed her fingers around it.

"This will give you strength," he said. "But don't let anyone see it."

She nodded. "You're not leaving, are you?"

"I'm afraid I must, I have to report to the Order and I can't be found. I will return if I can. Don't worry; it won't be long until you're out of here."

He kissed her hand, took the now empty water flask, and slid out between the bars. He walked back the way he came and found a small inlet in the wall. He ducked into it and pulled out the two-way mirror. Looking into its surface, he said, "Sirius."

Fog swirled across the surface and then Sirius's face appeared, looking anxious. "Frodo!" he said. "It's about time; we've all been sitting here waiting since you left. Are you alright?"

Frodo nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. Did Gandalf and Sam return without trouble?"

"Yeah, there were no problems. Sam and your cousins have worked themselves up quite a bit worrying about you though. How went the confrontation with Voldemort?"

"It was almost too simple. Voldemort did not harm me, and he accepted my tale without many questions." Frodo quickly recounted all that had occurred in Voldemort's tower.

There was a pause while Sirius turned to speak with the others presumably gathered in the room. He turned back to Frodo. "I don't like it, and neither does anyone else. Even with that quick thinking you came up with about Harry—which I wish you hadn't done, though it was necessary—it seems unrealistically easy. Keep your guard up, I don't like it at all."

"I agree. Sirius, there's one more thing I must tell you, Tonks is here. Voldemort has her locked in his prison hold."

"How is she?"

"Weak and more than half starved. I spoke with her and gave her some water, but there wasn't much else I could do. Her condition is grave. We have to act quickly to finish the task and free her from this place," Frodo said.

"I agree. Your cousins will be arriving this afternoon, and the rest of us tonight. Be ready, Frodo."

"I will. Give the others my blessings."

"Take care," said Sirius, and his face vanished. Frodo stood and tucked the mirror back into his pocket, then walked out into the hallway. He made his way back to the house and after a few wrong turns located the kitchen. There wasn't much by way of a meal, but he ate a slice of cheese and some bread. He considered taking some to Tonks, but worried that if the main tunnels were being watched he would be seen going to the same place repeatedly. The last thing Frodo needed was to draw attention to himself.

Having eaten, the hobbit wandered aimlessly through the Riddle House, accustoming himself to the passageways. He soon was able to find his way without trouble from the cellar door, to the kitchen, and to the spiral staircase without trouble. He figured knowing at least that much would help the Order greatly in the end.

He was retracing his steps to the cellar door when he heard voices ahead of him. Thinking fast, he ducked behind an umbrella stand.

A group of Death Eaters strode by, one of which Frodo recognized as Avery. They were snickering in something like a gruesome delight and seemed very pleased with themselves. Frodo peered at them suspiciously and then gasped.

Being carried among the group, bound and gagged, were Merry and Pippin.

TBC!


	20. Alone No Longer

Scars of the Future 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

**Here's the second chapter of the day!**

* * *

Chapter 20: Alone No Longer

Frodo ducked behind an empty umbrella stand as they passed, fearing that any emotion he might show towards his cousins would give him away. After several minutes had passed and he could no longer hear their footsteps, Frodo followed silently after and waited impatiently at the foot of the spiraling staircase that led to Voldemort.

_Give them strength, Elbereth, give them strength. _He prayed.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard footsteps again descending the stairs. He darted out of sight once again and watched as the same three Death Eaters passed, once more dragging an unconscious Merry and Pippin.

Anger flared inside of Frodo and he had to fight to maintain control over his emotions and keep from running out to them. Instead, he turned and marched up the stairs and to Voldemort's door. Once there he stopped to breathe and put on a relaxed demeanor. This done, he knocked thrice.

"Enter."

Frodo pushed the door open and stood in blinking in the garish late afternoon sunlight. He was amazed at how much time had passed since his arrival. He bowed deeply. "My Lord," he addressed.

"What do you want, Baggins?" hissed the Dark Lord, striding from a dark corner where a small, crude desk sat and turning his snake-like eyes on Frodo.

"Forgive me if for my impertinence, but I witnessed the capture of my cousins, and wish to speak to them."

Voldemort's slit of a mouth disappeared altogether as he eyed the hobbit suspiciously.

"To what purpose?"

Frodo forced every drip of malice into his voice with absolute precision as he said his next. "They do not know that I have sworn myself to you, and I wish to reveal it to them." He sneered. "But I wished to ask My Lord's permission beforehand."

Voldemort turned on his heel in the swish of his cloak and returned to his desk. "It surprised me, that your servant did not accompany them. Do you find that odd, Baggins?"

Frodo flinched and braced himself. "Samwise is a cowered. He would first protect himself than care for the well-being of his betters." The words drove pangs of guilt and anguish into his heart, for he knew his words were not true and it broke him to speak such ill words against his dearest friend.

The Dark Lord busied himself with a quill and parchment, but did not respond.

"My Lord?" tempted Frodo.

Voldemort stopped writing, and said tersely, "Do as you wish, hobbit, but do not interrupt me again! I am not concerned with the actions of those in my service until I need them."

Relieved and elated, Frodo bowed and backed out of the room. "Thank you, My Lord," he said, and closed the door.

He couldn't have been down the stairs and out of the cellar door fast enough; his panic drove him onward. Once in the tunnels, where nothing could hinder him, he ran as fast as he could and took the left fork at the crossroads. He slowed halfway down it, fearing that there would be a guard, but once again there was not. For some reason, this did not comfort him.

Frodo found Merry and Pippin on the opposite side of the dungeon than Tonks. They were huddled in a corner, cold, weakened, and afraid. The bars of their cell had been compressed to half their size by magic, obviously to accommodate the hobbits.

They leapt up when they saw him and ran to the bars. Frodo grasped their hands tightly between his own. "Are you all right?"

"Well enough, Frodo," comforted Merry. "He hurt us, I won't lie to you, but we've both been worse off."

Pippin nodded his agreement. "He wanted information, but we didn't give any to him, though he tried to take it by force."

"How did he do that?" Frodo questioned.

"I'm not sure, magic, apparently. I suppose that's all we need to know."

Frodo nodded. "Do you know how you're to escape?"

Merry reached into his pocket and took out a complicated-looking knife. "Harry gave this to us. He said it would unlock any lock."

"Bless him," said Frodo, smiling.

"Frodo."

All three hobbits jumped slightly and looked around for the source of the disembodied voice. There was no one. "What—" started Pippin.

"Frodo!"

This time, Frodo realized what it was, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out the mirror. Sirius's face looked backed at him. "Sirius, what is it?"

The response was abrupt. "Have your cousins arrived?"

"Yes," said Frodo, slightly alarmed. "Has something gone wrong?"

Sirius shook his head. "No. Sorry if I worried you. Things have been tense around here."

"I would imagine so."

"Look, Frodo, the sun is setting as we speak, we'll be arriving within three hours. What is the situation there?"

"Well enough considering the circumstances. I'm with Merry and Pippin now, actually. How are they to know when they should escape?"

Sirius paused, then said. "I guess you'll have to wait and tell them. Surely there's a clock around there somewhere."

"And if I can't return?"

Sirius sighed and shook his head. "This plan has too many loopholes," he muttered. "Tell them they'll have to count the minutes…I don't see any other way than to give them this mirror, and you need it."

"Couldn't I just wait by the entrance for you to come?"

"I doubt Voldemort would allow you out of the house to wait for us."

"Snape told you where the hidden entrance is, did he not?"

"He did."

"I could wait below, and someone could knock."

Sirius turned and spoke with someone else in the room. "I think that will work, actually. Now, Frodo, one last thing, I need you to describe to me how the entrance is protected."

"From what I can tell, there are usually two or three Death Eaters on sentry duty. Also, Voldemort's room is at the top of a tower hundreds of feet above the ground. It cannot be seen from outside, for I'm sure it is hidden by magic, and though its height is great I've no doubt somehow Voldemort has devised a way to see any trespassers," Frodo explained.

"That last could be a problem," said Sirius. "Have Merry and Pippin distract him, and I'm sure Dumbledore and Gandalf will come up with something or other. Until then, Frodo, get some rest, you'll need it."

"Same for you. Goodbye, friend."

"Goodbye." Sirius's face faded from the mirror. Frodo looked up at his cousins and handed the mirror to Pippin, who gave it to Merry. The latter hobbit took it without question.

"I won't have anything to do with it," he said, seeing Frodo's confused expression. "Not for all the gold in Bag End, and you know well enough why."

Understanding came to Frodo and pushed aside his initial puzzlement. Although he had been many leagues away, struggling towards Mount Doom, Merry had explained to him Pippin's encounter with the Palantir, and it made sense to Frodo why he would be reluctant to handle another magical communication source.

He nodded. "Take care, you two. When the time comes, head straight to Voldemort and do what you can to keep him from his window. I hate to ask this of you, but it must be done."

Merry reached through the bars and clutched Frodo's right shoulder with his left hand—the shoulder and hand not scared from the Nazgul encounters. "Don't worry about us, Frodo. Just focus on what needs to be done."

Frodo nodded and turned away. "Get some rest, I hope I shall see you soon."

"You will, Frodo," Merry reassured, as Frodo began walking away. "You will."

After leaving his cousins, Frodo walked in the opposite direction and once again stepped into Tonk's cell. He felt her brow and found that she was still too warm, although she hadn't worsened. For that he was grateful. He smiled slightly when he saw her clasping the pendant in her hand, and she seemed to be sleeping a real sleep, not one induced by fever.

"Hebo estel," he whispered.

He walked back the way he had come and left the dungeon area by way of the tunnel. When he reached the intersection he turned right and headed for the cellar. There, he found a burlap sack and dragged it to a dark corner where he curled up and fell into an uneasy slumber.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

When Frodo awoke he felt refreshed. He stretched and headed up the stairs into the Riddle House and to the kitchen. Glancing out the window he saw that it was dark, and for a moment he worried that he had missed the Order's arrival. There were no clocks in the kitchen, oddly enough, and fighting back panic Frodo hurried back the way he came. He had passed through the cellar and was half running through the tunnels when he collided with something solid and fell backwards. He looked up. There was nothing there.

Seemingly from out of thin air Ginny's head appeared. She gestured to a chamber dug into the side of a tunnel. He followed her head into it, and once hidden from any passers-by she took off the cloak, revealing Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Frodo blinked.

"How did you get in here, and what are you doing?"

"Slipped in as the Death Eater's were switching shifts," said Ron. "We came with the Order; they didn't know we did, though."

"Surely Alastor would have!" hissed Frodo. "You shouldn't be here, this is dangerous!"

"If he noticed, he didn't say anything. And we know it's dangerous, but Harry reckons he's the one that should finish Voldemort, and we weren't about to let him come alone," Ginny argued.

Frodo sighed. "What is done is done. But you said the others are here?"

"Yes, but we got here before they did. We didn't have to worry about being seen, and there're fewer of us," Hermione said.

"I'd better go, then. Look, be careful. You four shouldn't even be here," Frodo advised. He turned to leave, but turned back. "Harry," he said, and walked over to him. "You have become a good friend to me. And I—I would hate to see anything happen to you. We have much in common, Harry, and I believe we understand each other on levels even we don't realize. Your friends will be with you always, but in the end you will stand alone, despite how many loved ones surround you." He clasped Harry's hand briefly. "Belain na le."

Harry only nodded. Frodo hurried from the chamber and into the tunnel. He rushed quickly down it and waited in the shadows behind the stone stairs at the end.

Some twenty minutes later a quiet knock came from above him. Frodo stood and climbed to the trapdoor and opened it slightly. He peered into the gloom, and then opened it all the way. "Down here," he said, and returned to the bottom.

Frodo's heart lifted a few seconds later when he heard Sam's familiar voice. "Mr. Frodo!"

The two friends embraced, and Sam nodded in approval once he had made sure no harm had come to his beloved master.

Frodo's eyes wandered over the rest of the group, and his heart sank as he noticed its small size. With Sam were Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, the black dog that was Sirius, and a terribly large, mangy wolf. Frodo instinctively stepped back, although he truly felt there was nothing to fear.

Sirius transformed back into himself. "Frodo, meet Moony the werewolf."

Remus gave Sirius a reproachful glare from his yellow eyes, as Frodo said, "I figured as much. I admit I worried last night what I saw the moon about whether you'd be with us, and I am glad you are." He glanced around at the group. "I'm glad you all are, for that matter. It was terrible waiting."

"You have done well, Frodo," said Gandalf. "But you shall be alone no longer."

"This can't be all of you, though."

Aragorn shook his head. "No, we ran into trouble with the sentries, and Alastor and a group of others are handling that situation. It seems that Dumbledore found a second entrance, and he decided it would be unwise to have everyone use the same, so he's leading a group that way. Some of us are to find that entrance from here and open the door, because Dumbledore is certain it will be locked. We also have to leave this door open, lest someone should need it."

Frodo nodded his agreement. "Come with me, I think I know where it is."

They moved stealthily for such a large group, and when they reached the junction of the tunnels Frodo stopped them. "The right tunnel leads to the dungeon," he said, and caught Remus's gaze. "Tonks is there. The left I haven't explored, but I'm willing to wager that it leads to this second entrance. The straight one leads directly to the house."

"Dumbledore commanded that I go immediately to Voldemort and keep him occupied. Apparently the Dark Lord showed interest in me when he learned of our arrival," said Gandalf.

"Legolas and I will get the rest of the Order in here," Gimli announced. "It shouldn't take much skill to break a door latch, and we can handle any we meet."

"I'll come with you," said Aragorn, but Legolas shook his head.

"No, Aragorn. We can do without you this once," the elf smiled. "But there are others who need you more."

The King of Gondor nodded. Legolas and Gimli bid their farewells and took the left tunnel at a brisk pace, soon disappearing into the gloom.

"Then, Frodo—"

"Aragorn, go with Remus to the dungeons. Tonks will need your skill as a healer immediately. Do what you can to aid her and free her from this horrid place, and once you are sure she is safe, then return," Frodo said.

"I'll go with Aragorn and Remus," Sirius said, following Remus down the right tunnel.

"Sirius, wait."

Sirius walked back to Frodo. "What?"

"There is something I must tell you, although I believe it will hurt you. For that I am sorry. Sirius, Harry is here. He took the Portkey with the Order along with Ginny, Hermione, and Ron under the invisibility cloak. I met him just before I joined you."

Sirius's face was a mask of fear and anger, yet his fear dominated all else. He cursed under his breath, and locked gazes with Remus. "Forgive me, Moony, but you know what I have to do." The wolf nodded. "I'm going after him. Frodo, Remus…good luck." He transformed into the massive dog, sniffed the air, and then sprang forward and bounded down the tunnel in the direction of the house.

Aragorn knelt and embraced the two hobbits. "Like brothers you are both to me, and I wish nothing more than to accompany you, but it is not to be. I will try to return to you quickly, but I make no promises. Farewell." He stood and clasped arms with Gandalf, then left with Remus, leaving Gandalf and the hobbits alone.

"Well, my dear hobbits," said Gandalf, "we go now perhaps to our ends, but be not afraid! If it is the will of the Creator that we leave in such a battle then we shall, but we shall fight, my friends. We shall fight."

* * *

Hebo estel: Sindarin: Have hope.

Belain na le: Sindarin: The Valar be with you.

**TBC!**


	21. Sacrifice

Scars of the Future 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. They were created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

Chapter 21: Sacrifice

Frodo's legs felt leaden as he guided Sam and Gandalf forward. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to fight, he didn't want any of this, and what was he doing? Gandalf had promised that he and Sam need not become involved in battles, yet here they were, marching to an inevitable fight. And though he wanted to place the blame for his position on Gandalf, he knew it was his fault. Had he not gone after Harry to the graveyard in the first place...then again, had he not spoken so harshly to Bellatrix Lestrange she needn't have brought him to Voldemort, and he would still be free. But his dignity had been at stake, and the stubbornness that ran thickly in his blood hadn't allowed him to back down. The same resilience had saved him before, but he feared that this time it had doomed him.

He found Sam's hand resting on his arm and realized he had stopped moving and that he was visibly shaking. He met the younger, but certainly not young, hobbit's eyes and tried to smile his thanks, but a wave of vertigo overwhelmed him and he swayed dangerously on his feet before sinking to the floor, his breath coming in short gasps.

Sam mopped his brow with a handkerchief while Frodo tried to make the white spots of light in front of his eyes disappear. He clutched Sam's arm, needing something to ground himself to and clenched his eyes shut against the swarm of images that shot through his mind.

_Tonk's pale face in the light of a candle…_

"Mr. Frodo?"

…_Sirius's eyes, empty of all emotion, staring…_

"He's not—"

_...Harry standing in the middle of a room, blurs of other people moving around him, anger prominent in all parts of his stance as he raises his wand…_

"—won't stop shaking—!"

"…_the death of your beloved master!" Voldemort's voice, followed by his high-pitched, evil cackling and a blinding flash of green light, and Frodo's own scream of complete anguish…"_

A firm grip on his shoulder was shaking him, and Frodo came to his senses and saw Gandalf staring at him with concern. Frodo realized he was shivering and had broken out into a cold sweat. Gandalf had apparently found and taken him and Sam into a small room. "The visions, again, Frodo?"

The hobbit nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth. He felt as if he would be ill.

"He's in no fit state to do any fightin' Mr. Gandalf, beggin' your pardon," said Sam, moving to Frodo's side and feeling his brow.

Frodo yelped and scampered away, backing into a corner like a frightened beast. Sam's touch had been cold and had sent jolts of pain though his body. He huddled, staring at him with wide eyes. Sam and Gandalf exchanged alarmed glances, and then Sam slowly moved over to Frodo, stopping an arm's length from him. Eyes full of compassion, he extended a hand to his master.

"Mr. Frodo?" he asked tentatively. "It's me…it's your Sam."

Frodo's eyes softened and he clasped Sam's hand, who then embraced him, holding the shaking form in an attempt to comfort and console as Frodo released the tears, born from fear and stress, which had built up over the past few days.

"Forgive me, Sam. I do not know what has come over me. I am afraid, Sam, so afraid."

"Of what?"

Frodo shook his head. "I don't know. I cannot help feeling that some dreadful event is going to transpire."

Sam sighed. "Maybe we should go back, Mr. Frodo. We weren't meant to be here," he said.

Frodo looked passed Sam's shoulder at Gandalf, who stared back, although his face remained impassive. Frodo opened his mouth to object Sam's proposal, despite his wish to leave, but halted immediately at the sound of shouting from the corridor outside.

Gandalf rushed to the opening and looked out, then beckoned to the hobbits. "Come my friends! Now is the time to fight."

Sam gave Frodo a looked that clearly inquired to his well-being, and Frodo nodded. Sam helped him to his feet, and swords drawn they quickly followed Gandalf into the tunnel.

It was clear that the Order had arrived, and a group of Death Eaters had met them in the junction of the tunnels. They were engaged in a ferocious duel which Frodo, Sam, and Gandalf leapt into, using swords and staff to whatever purpose they could.

"Gandalf!" Gimli shouted above the din. "Keep going! We need no assistance here, do what you must accomplish!"

The Maia grabbed both hobbits and pulled them away from the scene of chaos. "Lead the way, Frodo, our time runs thin," he said.

Frodo, with Sam directly by his side, hurried forward down the tunnel and into the cellar. The door to the house was unlocked; the Death Eaters had most likely forgotten to lock it in their haste to reach the scene of disturbance in the tunnels. He pushed it open and walked into the house. Goyle stood waiting for them.

"Well, well," he said. "It appears the Dark Lord has a traitor. What should I do with him? I could—." His words were cut short as Gandalf shoved Glamdring through his gut.

"May that teach you to act before your enemies have time to react," the wizard spoke.

"Onward, Frodo."

Through the house Frodo led them, though they met only a few Death Eaters, three of which were quickly knocked unconscious by Gandalf's staff, ("We don't want to kill any we don't need to kill. They must testify before a judge once this is all ended,") and one was killed by Sam in defense of his master.

When they reached the staircase Frodo stopped. "He dwells at the top," he said. Gandalf nodded, and took the lead, for which Frodo was grateful. The two hobbits trailed behind him.

Halfway to the top Frodo had to stop, unable to move any further. It was as if some force wanted to prevent him from reaching the summit, and each step became more and more difficult. He caught his breath and took a drink from Sam's water flask, then deemed himself able to continue and began following Gandalf once more.

They reached the top and walked into the spacious room. All three froze.

Lord Voldemort stood in the center of the room, and standing in a half circle behind him were at least fifty Death Eaters. Voldemort grinned evilly.

"So…we meet again, Frodo Baggins. I bid you congratulations. There are few who have ever deceived me."

Frodo stiffened but said nothing as Sam gripped his sword.

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle!" Gandalf shouted. "Stop this madness! What have you done to yourself? Why do you choose this pathetic existence?"

Voldemort's eyes flashed in anger. He eyed Gandalf carefully, as if sizing him up.

"Gandalf the White…I have learned much of you from memories implanted in the minds of young Merry and Pippin."

"And if as much is true, then you should know that you are in for quite a match," Gandalf said.

"Am I?" Voldemort asked with mock interest. "We shall see—_Crucio_!"

But Gandalf was too quick, and sent the spell zooming back at Voldemort, who was hit squarely in the chest. The Dark Lord twitched and screamed until Gandalf raised his staff. The Death Eaters took a step back, alarmed by the power Gandalf seemed to have over Voldemort.

"You!" gasped the Dark Lord, pointing a finger in Gandalf's direction.

Despite himself, Frodo chuckled, and Voldemort whirled on him. "You dare mock me, Baggins?"

"I did not lie when I said I had more powerful allies than you, and even you must admit that now. Tell me, Voldemort, is Albus Dumbledore still the only wizard you fear, or are there now two?"

"You shall pay for your outburst, _Crucio!_"

Intense pain burned throughout every fiber of Frodo's body, and he felt as though he was being ripped apart. He had felt this before, but not like this, this—this was worse than before, and it didn't seem that it would end.

He heard Gandalf shout something above his screams and the pain stopped abruptly. Sam rushed to his side and brushed sweat-soaked curls out of his eyes. "Oh, me dear…"

"Ssh, Sam, I'm all right," Frodo said, sitting up. He didn't have the strength, though, and collapsed against Sam, breathing rapidly. He clutched his hand, entire body aching and head reeling. He had not the energy to fight his emotions any longer, and his resolve broke, allowing the fear to overcome him. He trembled and closed his eyes, willing himself to disappear.

Rage erupted inside of Sam upon seeing Frodo in such a state, and he glared at Voldemort. "Look what you've done to him! I won't let you touch him again!" he roared.

Voldemort laughed. "You are a pitiful servant," he said. "You have no right to speak to your betters, slime!"

"No…" muttered Frodo. "It's not true, Sam. I'd be nowhere without you, none of us would. Let it go, I'll be fine. Please, Sam."

But Sam was beyond reasoning. Blood pounded in his ears and he wanted nothing more than to cause as much pain as he possibly could to the one who had dared harm his dearest friend.

"I am not _your_ servant," he said through clenched teeth, his voice quiet, yet firm. He was beyond the point of shouting now. "And I'm not afraid of you. I don't have to obey any of your orders, because you're nothing but a weed to me, especially after what you've done to Mr. Frodo."

Fury blazed in Voldemort's scarlet eyes. "But you will be a witness to the death of your beloved master!"

Frodo's eyes flew open the instant Voldemort raised his wand. "_Avada Kedavra_!" the Dark Lord shouted, but even before he was finished speaking the words or Gandalf could react, Sam threw himself in front of Frodo, shielding him with his body. There was a blinding flash of green light, and Sam fell limply to the floor.

* * *

TBC

I feel bad about this, so I'm posting the next chapter.


	22. The Fall

Scars of the Future 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. I would also like to thank my beta, Inwe Telemnar. You guys are the greatest!

Chapter 22: The Fall

Both the door to Voldemort's office and the door to the staircase were blasted open simultaneously as the Order rushed in from the latter and Sirius, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Merry, Pippin, and Remus burst through the former. More Death Eaters followed the second group, and the air soon erupted with beams of light and Legolas's arrows.

Although chaos erupted around him, time had stopped for Frodo. He knelt, staring in disbelief at Sam's still form. He brushed his fingers against Sam's cheek and found all warmth had left it. Sam—dead. Sam—dead. Sam—dead. The words wouldn't fit…the words weren't meant to fit…it didn't make sense, it wasn't real…it wasn't possible… Frodo was numb—he couldn't move, he couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. His brain seemed to be frozen and unable to understand what his eyes clearly told it they saw.

A spell whizzed dangerously close to him, and reality slammed into his chest as if something heavy had flown into it. Anger such as he had never felt before burst from within him, and he looked up and found Voldemort several feet away, sending spells blasting in every direction, although none seemed to touch him. Some barrier of magic protected him like a shield.

Frodo stood and began walking toward him. To his left, Avery lost his head to Gimli's ax, arrows flew in quick succession above him, impaling several Death Eaters but not killing them. Aragorn and Gandalf fought fiercely side by side, and Merry and Pippin did what they could, slashing at legs so that their victims would fall and then taking their wands and snapping them. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny fought with wands, as well as Sirius. Remus felled many, though never biting, only using his brute strength.

But Frodo paid little attention to this. He drew Sting and rushed at Voldemort, roaring in fury, and leapt onto his back, hooking his arms around the Dark Lord's neck. Voldemort threw him off with ease and cackled as Frodo slammed into the wall; the wind was knocked out of him, but he stood and attacked again, slashing violently.

Gandalf's voice rose above the anarchy. "Frodo! You cannot defeat him in this way!"

Frodo ignored him and continued his onslaught of mindless attacks. Whenever Voldemort threw him off, he came back stronger, determined for vengeance. His strength would have long ago given out, but once more his stubbornness was on his side. He charged once more, and this time was rewarded. Bringing Sting down hard and fast, he sliced Voldemort's wand hand from his body.

Bellowing in pain and outrage, Voldemort grabbed Frodo around the neck and squeezed. The air rushed from Frodo's lungs, he couldn't breathe, darkness was clouding his vision…he heard Voldemort screaming above him as he let loose his grip around Frodo's throat and sent the hobbit falling to the floor. Frodo coughed and gasped for breath as something large and hairy stood over him protectively, growling menacingly.

Meanwhile, Wormtail moved toward Voldemort's severed hand and grabbed the wand. He began to rush to his master but was cut off by Sirius, who, not having time to utter a spell, punched him squarely in the temple and took the wand, snapping it over his knee as Wormtail slumped, unconscious.

There was a yelp above Frodo and the hobbit opened his eyes to see Remus thrown aside. Voldemort had taken one of the Death Eater's wands and was using it to his advantage. He loomed over Frodo, his arm no longer bleeding, for he had apparently healed it. The hand that held the wand was a gruesome sight. Blisters had broken out on it and they shined in the glint of moonlight coming in from one of the room's windows. Frodo noticed for the first time that Voldemort's neck sported similar blisters. Frodo stood and leapt again, but Voldemort raised the wand and stopped him in midair. The hobbit fought, but his willpower and vigor had worn out, and he felt himself losing his hold on consciousness.

But once again the bond was severed as Sirius and Gandalf joined the duel against Voldemort. After a moment of reprieve Frodo stood and again began his assault, stabbing and slashing at any part of Voldemort he could reach. He swayed and staggered in weakness.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Voldemort shouted. Sting flew from Frodo's hands as he slid across the floor from the impact of the spell. He caught his breath and shakily stood. Some monster had erupted within him and wouldn't let him stop. Some unknown force compelled him to fight, and fight, and fight…

He fell, but Aragorn was there, and he caught him. Frodo struggled, but to no avail. "NO! LET—ME—GO! HE—He—he killed—" Frodo slowly came to his senses. "No…" he groaned. "No…nooo…" He clutched Aragorn's arm as he began to sob onto the man's shoulder, and the tears began to flow as if a dam had broken. Aragorn held him as he would a child, stroking his curls and whispering empty words even as his own tears fell.

Sirius and Gandalf still fought violently with Voldemort. Legolas let loose an arrow and it pierced Voldemort's shoulder. He faltered.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted. "Kill him!"

Harry looked at her, then at Sirius. "I—I can't!" he said.

"Can't?" she yelled. "Or won't?"

Harry glared at Voldemort, his lifelong enemy, and reached a decision. He raised his wand and aimed it at his target. "_Stupefy_!"

Distracted by Sirius and Gandalf, Voldemort hadn't seen the spell coming, much less have time to block it. It hit him and he toppled over, unmoving.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked.

Harry walked to Voldemort and kicked him. "Death is too good for him," he said. "He deserves worse. We'll take him to Azkaban and let the dementors deal with him." He spit on Voldemort's face.

The few Death Eaters that remained standing surrendered then and there upon seeing their fallen leader. They were stunned by Alastor Moody.

Dumbledore gazed down at Harry with pride. "Well done, Harry," he said. He observed the scene around him and wiped specks of blood from his glasses. "Separate the dead from the living, our side from theirs, and ensure our enemies do not escape." He walked to Voldemort and levitated him. "I must go to the Ministry at once and inform them of our victory." He clasped Voldemort's arm and disapparated.

Merry and Pippin approached Aragorn. "Strider?" Pippin asked. "What happened?"

Aragorn only shook his head, his eyes full of sorrow. "Pippin, Merry…stay with Frodo, I must assist the others." He carried Frodo to a corner and after removing his cloak laid him down on it. Frodo's sobs had ceased, though tears coursed steadily down his cheeks and his eyes stared blankly, unblinking, unseeing.

The two hobbits exchanged fearful glances. Merry gulped. "Pippin…Pippin…where's—where's Sam?"

Pippin's eyes widened and he stared at his cousin. He stood and walked away, searching the room in a panic. He shoved aside the body of a Death Eater and stopped short.

"Merry," he said, first softly, and then louder. "Merry, Merry!" He fell to his knees as Merry joined him.

"No…" Merry knelt alongside Pippin and reached out a shaking hand to touch Sam's lifeless skin.

"Oh, Merry, how could this happen?"

But Meriadoc Brandybuck, Saradoc's son, bright as he was, had no answer. Tears gathered in his eyes and he had nothing to say.

Slender hands rested on each of their shoulders. The hobbits looked up. "Return to Frodo," Legolas said. "He needs you near him, even if he does not acknowledge your presence."

The hobbits nodded, and Pippin laid a hand over Sam's eyes and closed them before rising with Merry and returning to Frodo's side. Merry lifted Frodo and held him closely, offering what little comfort he could as Pippin spoke to him of lighter times in Brandy Hall and the Great Smials.

!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!I!

Aragorn moved throughout the Order, tending to what injuries he could. The casualties for their side weren't many, but they were great. He sighed, feeling useless among the many witches and wizards. He could attend to few, for most of them dealt with magic.

Gandalf approached him, and the wizard's face was stained with tears. "We need to take Frodo from this place," he said. "And Meriadoc and Peregrin too."

Aragorn nodded wearily. "Tonks is resting in a small hut behind the house, probably a servant's quarters. I was able to assist her to an extent, but she needs further care, and most of my healing supplies are back at Headquarters."

Sirius, who had been standing nearby speaking with Harry, turned around. "I'll go with you," he said. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, you too. Molly's most likely discovered you're gone by now, you'd better get back before she comes looking for you."

"Are you coming, Gandalf?" Aragorn asked.

"No, I shall remain here and assist in the organization of this mess," he said. "Aragorn… keep and eye on Frodo, in his current state he is likely to do anything."

Aragorn nodded and strode over to the hobbits. "We are leaving," he announced. He bent and gathered Frodo into his arms, and followed by the rest of the group left the room and descended the stairs. Remus came as well, plodding along after them on his massive paws.

They exited the Riddle House the way they had come, through the cellar and then through the gardening shed. Beyond it was a small house, and Remus took the lead and went to it before them. Aragorn set Frodo down outside with the others, and went in with Sirius. They returned a few minutes later, Sirius carrying a limp Tonks in his arms. Aragorn lifted a still unresponsive Frodo, and the group continued to the road in melancholy silence.

Uncomfortable, Sirius said, "Aragorn…I don't know what to say, I—I'm so sorry…"

Aragorn shook his head. "No…not here. This is neither the time nor place to speak of it."

As they neared Great Hangleton the group picked up their pace and once in the town ducked into an alley. "Is this the right one?" Aragorn asked.

Sirius nodded. "That umbrella is our portkey."

The group reached out and on Sirius's count placed fingers on the worn umbrella. Moments later they landed in an alley near Grimmauld Place. They walked the few blocks to the premises and knocked on the door. Molly Weasly answered, pale and frightened. Her expression softened and relief was evident on her face when she saw them.

* * *

TBC. I have this completed, I actually finished it today, so I'm hoping to update every three to five days. 


	23. Aftermath

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. You're the greatest!

So much for posting regularly. I've been editing like crazy on top of all the other crud I have to do.

Someone commented that if Voldemort went to Azkaban he'd take control of the dementors. A very good point, but I'm not sure if I totally agree. He absolutely could, but without a wand and at their mercy, they might just be happy to have another soul to feed off of. I think it's one of those areas that's just take it as you want. Thanks for pointing it out, though!

* * *

Chapter 23: Aftermath 

"Oh, Ron, Ginny…!" Molly pulled her youngest son and only daughter into her embrace and held them tightly, then did the same with Harry and Hermione. She couldn't speak for the relief she felt that they lived, and merely looked upon them with love. All anger she had forgotten.

She turned then to Sirius and Aragorn, and her face clouded with worry when she saw Frodo and Tonks. "Have they—I mean, are they all right?" she questioned softly.

Sirius sighed. "Tonks should probably be sent to St. Mungos soon, but Aragorn says he'll look at her. Frodo…" he trailed off and shook his head as he carried Tonks past Molly. Remus followed. "It'll be daylight soon," said Sirius. "You should go upstairs before you transform back…I doubt we'd want to witness the aftermath of _that_," he added with a grin, trying to lighten the solemn mood. Remus grunted and trudged up the stairs.

Molly closed the door behind Merry, who was the last to enter the house. "Aragorn?"

He turned to her, and she could see that his eyes were moist with unshed tears, and wet tracks lined his face where tears had already fallen. "We've lost one dear to us," he choked, causing the tears to leak again. He found he could say no more, and turned away.

Aragorn took Frodo to the room he had shared with Sam and laid him on the bed. He sat down beside the Hobbit. "Frodo…" he began, but couldn't finish. There was nothing to say. He planted a soft kiss on Frodo's brow and stood. Frodo did not acknowledge any change. He stared blankly as tears continued to trickle down his face.

Aragorn turned to Merry and Pippin, knelt, and pulled them to him. He held them tightly as they wept anew, and Aragorn's own tears fell silently. Finally, he pulled away. "I must see to Tonks and aid her in any way I can. I will come back shortly, but remain with him for now…. Your presence may bring him some comfort."

The Hobbits nodded and crawled up on the bed beside their cousin. They each took a too-cold hand and held it tightly, unable to find any words of comfort to speak. Their actions would suffice well enough.

Aragorn walked back through the house to the sitting room. Tonks lay on the settee with Remus, now human once more, sitting next to her and holding her hand. Sirius stood by the window, looking out at the street. He and Remus glanced up as Aragorn entered.

"Has she woken?" he asked.

Remus shook his head sadly. "No."

Aragorn knelt beside the couch and took the hand Remus wasn't holding. He placed his other hand on her brow and whispered words in a tongue neither Sirius nor Remus recognized. Tonks's eyelids fluttered and cautiously opened. After several seconds she was able to focus on Aragorn. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"You are back at Number Twelve," he said with a smile, "and I am Aragorn, a healer and friend. Do you remember what happened to you?"

At first she didn't seem to understand him, but Remus gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and she saw him and smiled slightly, then looked back at Aragorn. "I was captured… tortured…thrown in a cold cell…not much more to say, really…." She coughed.

"I can't image they fed you much," Aragorn said.

Tonks shook her head. "Some bread…some cheese now and then…scraps mostly…"

"And water?"

"Not enough," she said, and the dryness of her voice proved it.

"When's the last you were given anything? Can you remember?"

She closed her eyes tightly. "All a blur…not too long, I think. Someone brought me water…not one of them."

"That would've been Frodo," confirmed Sirius, who had moved to stand behind the couch when Tonks had come to.

She nodded slowly. "He said…said you would come."

"We did come, and Voldemort has been captured and will be taken to Azkaban promptly," told Aragorn.

Tonks's face lit up. "We got him then?"

Remus smiled tenderly. "Yes, we got him."

Tonks smiled with him, but then moved her gaze back to Aragorn's face. "Tell me…" she croaked tiredly, "how…am I?"

Aragorn frowned. "Malnourished and feverish, and I believe you're an easy target for pneumonia, if it hasn't started to develop already."

She sighed. "St. Mungos then…?"

"I believe it would be best," Aragorn said. "I could bring you back to health here, but recovery would be quicker if you were in a hospital."

"I'm so tired…"

"You needn't be moved today," Aragorn said. "At least not right now. I am sure Remus and Sirius wouldn't mind taking you later today, or at most, tomorrow."

"Thanks…" she said.

Molly bustled in then, carrying a tray bearing several teacups. She set it on the table. "I made tea," she said, face white with anxiety for Tonks. She handed Sirius, Remus, and Aragorn cups, then went to Tonks's side with another.

Aragorn stopped her. "Wait," he said. He stood and went to his healer's pouch on the table, and from it took a few athelas leaves. He crushed them into the teacup. A refreshing fragrance filled the room, and all were calmed. "The tea may taste somewhat bitter, but it will help."

Tonks drank in small sips, and admitted that although it was indeed pungent she felt better. Her eyes began to droop shut, but Molly would have none of it.

"You can sleep, dear, but not yet. Remus, if you could carry her into the bathroom so I can get her cleaned up…I've already brought a clean pair of robes in there for her."

Remus made to do so, but Tonks protested. "I can walk," she assured, but when she tried to stand she faltered. Remus put an arm around her and guided her out of the sitting room, followed by Molly.

Aragorn sank onto the couch and drank deeply from his cup. He closed his eyes. Sirius sat down beside him.

"You should rest," he said.

Aragorn shook his head. "I haven't the time. There's still much to do. I need to see to Frodo, and when Gandalf and the others arrive we will need to speak together. There will undoubtedly be more wounded…"

Sirius gripped his shoulder. "_Relax_. Any other injuries will be from magic, and I doubt you can do anything about that. They'll go to St. Mungos, and they probably won't be back for awhile anyway, so rest until then. And Frodo…does he have any physical injuries?"

"A few cracked ribs from when he was thrown. Otherwise, no, not physical."

"Remus and Molly can mend bones within seconds; let them take care of it."

"I cannot merely abandon him and Merry and Pippin," Aragorn pressed. "Not after what has happened. No, I need to be with them."

Sirius sighed. "Very well."

Remus walked back into the room and downed his now cold tea in one gulp. He grimaced and set the empty cup on the table. "Will she be all right?" he asked Aragorn.

Aragorn nodded. "Yes, she will.

Some of the tightness in Remus's demeanor seemed to loosen and he sat down. The three men remained silent for a few minutes, thinking back on the events of only a few hours before.

"I must return to the Hobbits," Aragorn said, standing. "Call for me if there is need." He left the room and strode down the hallway. When he entered Frodo's room he found the Hobbits in nearly the same positions they had been in when he left. He sighed and closed the door, then sat down on the bed.

"Has he said anything?"

Both Hobbits shook their heads. "He hasn't responded to anything we've said," Merry answered.

Aragorn sighed. "You should sleep. It has been too long since you've rested."

"We won't be able to sleep, Aragorn, tired as we are," said Pippin.

"I can prepare a sleeping draught for you, if you wish, but I will not force you to drink it."

Merry and Pippin looked at each other, and then Merry nodded. "Perhaps you should. Sleep may help…at least if we're rested we can handle…handle things more easily."

"As you wish," Aragorn said. He looked at the still form of Frodo. "I will prepare one for Frodo as well. He may not agree to drink it, but he must." He stood and retrieved his healer's pouch from the sitting room, then prepared the draughts in the kitchen. He carried them back to the Hobbits.

"Give Frodo his first," instructed Merry. "I doubt he'll accept it, and you made need help getting him to drink."

Aragorn nodded and lifted Frodo into a sitting position. He held the cup to his lips. "Drink this, Frodo."

Frodo turned his head away. "No," he croaked. "I don't want to sleep."

"Frodo, you must sleep. In your state rest is necessary."

"No."

"Please, cousin, Mer and I are both drinking it. It's just as hard for us…but at least this way we can forget for awhile…"

Frodo seemed to be fighting back another wave of tears. Merry took the cup from Aragorn and pressed it to Frodo's lips, who allowed the liquid to be tipped into his mouth. He swallowed without protest, and it wasn't long until his eyelids began to slide closed. He forced them open and grabbed Aragorn's tunic. "Don't let him be killed," he said firmly.

Aragorn was confused. "What?"

"Voldemort…I must…speak…with him…" His head fell forward onto his chest and his grip on Aragorn's shirt loosened.

Aragorn pulled the quilt over Frodo's still form. "As you wish, Master Baggins. If only it is not yet too late."

"You mean to let him see Voldemort?" Merry asked, a bit taken aback.

"Can you think of reason why he shouldn't? Voldemort will be closely guarded at Azkaban, and will have no weapon."

"Do you think it's good for him though?" inquired Pippin.

Aragorn sighed and nodded. "Yes. Voldemort has hurt Frodo deeply. If Frodo speaks to him it may help alleviate some of his pain, and help him come to terms with his loss." He paused and took the remaining cups. "Now, drink and forget."

Merry and Pippin drained the glasses and climbed in beside their cousin. They were asleep within moments. Aragorn stood and looked into the sitting room. Sirius was the only one present and stood once more looking out the window.

"Any sign of them?"

Sirius shook his head. "No," he said, turning around. "Molly and Remus took Tonks upstairs and gave her a sleeping potion. She shouldn't come around for a couple of hours at least."

"Good," said Aragorn, nodding his approval. "Where have the children gone?"

"Sent them off to bed with sleeping potions as well. I was surprised Harry took his, actually."

"Very well. I suppose I'll look in on Tonks before I retire."

Sirius chuckled. "No you won't. She's alright for now. If anything changes I'll find you."

"What about you, Sirius? Do you intend to sleep?"

Sirius shrugged carelessly. "Eventually. I can go awhile without sleep if I need to, and someone should be here when the others arrive."

"Why does that person have to be you?"

"Why doesn't it?"

"Fair enough," Aragorn sighed. "I'll be just down the hall if you should need me."

"Good morning, then," Sirius called after Aragorn as he left the room.

Aragorn returned to Frodo's room and pulled the drapes closed, blocking out the garish morning sunlight. He collapsed onto the empty bed in the room—formerly Sam's bed—and fell asleep with it still made.


	24. The Truest Form of Sadness

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. You're the greatest!

* * *

Chapter 24: The Truest Form of Sadness

Frodo awoke in a daze.

A thick fog obscured his vision, and a monotonous buzzing rang in his head. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the mist, and the world transformed into a large, colorful blur. It took several minutes for him to focus, but he became aware that he was lying on his bed, and that no one else was in the room.

Then, Reality in all of its harsh truth came crashing down upon him like waves on sand, and Memory enveloped him.

Sam was dead.

It had never seemed possible to Frodo that he would lose Sam in this battle. He had left home with a growing suspicion that _he_ wouldn't return, but not Sam. Never Sam, who had a wife and children and an established reputation in the Shire. Sam who was the finest mayor Hobbiton had ever seen, who had nearly restored the Shire to its original beauty since the coming of Saruman. It wouldn't be fair.

No one ever told him that life was fair.

He slid out of the bed and moved to sit on the window seat. He looked out at the grey sky and welcomed it. Grief had settled on his heart with such a weight that it felt hard to breathe, yet his eyes had run out of tears to cry.

Why?

Why?

_Why?_

He remembered the year his parents died so vividly, although it had been years ago, when he was young. The days after had passed in a blur, and the only clear thought he could voice was, "Why?"

His relatives coddled him, held him, brought him in, fed him, clothed him, made him more or less comfortable….they told him what had happened, or at least most of it. There had been a boat. There had been a river. Something had gone wrong, and his parents hadn't come home.

The only thing they didn't tell him was _why._ Oh, they told him _how._ The boat had tipped, they said, and his parents didn't know how to swim, so they drowned. Drowned? Yes, they went under the water and couldn't breathe. You see, Frodo? But _why? _

He later realized that if in the entire world there was an answer, no one knew it.

And now, if he asked anyone, they would tell him how. There was Voldemort, and he had a wand, a magic wand, and he tried to kill you, Frodo, but you see, Sam saved you, and he died instead.

_Why?_

For the first time in several months, Frodo cursed the Ring.

_Why?_

It prolonged his life, of course, even after its destruction. Reason said Frodo had no right to still look so youthful. He was what, seventy-five? Eighty-five? He'd stopped counting, cursing the soulless life he was forced to endure each and every day. It used to be that life would throw small obstacles into his path that he was forced to pass, and those were difficult enough, yes. But _now_ the hardest thing for him to do was to live. He thought that time would heal him, that if he continued living the pain would diminish, and for awhile it had, but now….

_Why?_

Now it would come back. His tourniquet had been torn from him and he lay bleeding, at the mercy of his mind, his phantoms, his misery.

_Why?_

The door opened and closed, and Frodo glanced up to see Gandalf walking across the room. He looked away as the wizard sat down beside him.

"How are you feeling?"

It was a stupid thing to ask, Frodo thought, and the look he gave Gandalf clearly expressed that thought.

"Very well," said Gandalf. "Aragorn tells me you earlier expressed a desire to speak with Voldemort. Do you still wish this?"

Somehow, Frodo managed to speak. "Yes." His voice was low and raspy.

"I will have it arranged. Are you hungry, Frodo?"

"No."

Gandalf nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Frodo, I know—"

"Don't," Frodo interrupted. "Please, just…just go."

Gandalf sighed. "As you wish," he said, standing and moving to the door.

Frodo stopped him. "Gandalf?"

The wizard turned around.

"What happened to everyone else? I can't—I can't remember."

"We have all returned now. Voldemort is currently in a cell in Azkaban, and Tonks was taken to St. Mungos earlier this afternoon. The Ministry has, of course, been informed of all that has happened."

Frodo nodded, and continued staring out of the window. Gandalf gazed at him sadly a moment, and then he left.

Merry and Pippin were waiting for him in the hallway.

"Leave him alone for now," Gandalf said. "If he wants your company, he will invite you."

"Is he alright?" Pippin asked.

"No, Pippin, and I'm afraid he may not be for quite some time."

Gandalf left them standing there, and after a spell they followed him.

* * *

Harry sat alone in the room he shared with Ron. It had taken awhile, but he had finally managed to slip away from everyone else to find some quiet.

Voldemort was gone.

The thought kept running through his head over and over, and Harry thought he would go mad if it didn't stop. Because Voldemort _wasn't _gone, not yet. He kept thinking of everything that could go wrong between the time Voldemort was taken to Azkaban and the time he received the kiss. Most of his ideas were crazy enough to almost be deliriums, but Sirius had escaped, and Voldemort could too, right?

Still, a peace lay over him that hadn't in a long time. He connected it to the days before he knew he was a wizard, before he knew about Voldemort, when the only thing he worried about were the Dursleys and school—a normal, Muggle school.

But this was far better, because he wouldn't be returning to the Dursleys, because Pettigrew had been captured at last, and he would be testifying before the Ministry, and that would _prove_ that Sirius was innocent. Harry could finally live with his godfather.

Beneath all this bliss was sadness, though. Harry hadn't known Sam, but he knew Frodo, and he knew what it was like to lose someone close.

He somehow felt, no matter how farfetched it sounded, that he was responsible. It was unnecessary guilt, he knew, and stupid too, but he tended to blame things on himself anyway, and he felt bad that he had lost nothing, and Frodo had lost his brother.

But, he thought, hadn't he lost something? He had lost his parents, and even though Sirius lived again, he'd lost him as well.

Still, he had no fresh wounds, and that was more than he could say for many.

* * *

Frodo had to get out. The walls were closing in on him, cutting off his source of air. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't reason.

He opened the window and climbed out, dropping to the pavement below. He took a few moments to look around, and then he ran.

He didn't know where he planned on going, and didn't care. The position of the sun told him it was late-afternoon, and it wouldn't be long until darkness crept up and consumed him.

When Frodo finally lacked the strength to continue, he stopped running. He found himself standing outside of the cemetery. The gate had been locked, even though the sun hadn't yet set. The cast-iron bars were wide, though, and he easily slid through sideways. He let his feet take him back to the trench, the only evidence that Voldemort had ever dwelt there. The rain of the last several days had filled it with water—the ground was too moist to hold it anymore. Authorities had stretched yellow tape around the area, prohibiting passage. He ducked under it and walked around the perimeter, then settled beside it and leaned back against a crooked tombstone.

Sam was dead, and it was _his_ fault. Voldemort may have struck the final blow, but that blow had been aimed at Frodo.

Frodo clenched his eyes shut tightly against this realization. It _couldn't be…_

But it was, and he knew it. He didn't want it to be true, but it was, and nothing in the world could change that, and nothing could bring Sam back, either. He could try to fool himself, tell himself that maybe, just _maybe_ there was magic deep enough to wake the dead, but even if there was, and even if it was possible, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Sam, he knew, was at peace, without fear, without pain, and to pull him from that would be selfish and cruel.

"I should be dead," Frodo said aloud. "I should be dead….I'm so sorry, Sam."

He let sorrow and guilt consume him. He wished so badly that he could go back, change the outcome. He had longed for death for so long. It hadn't surfaced for a long time, this desire, but it had still existed, lying within what remained of his soul. He had come so close to freedom, and it had been torn from him and given to another who didn't deserve such a fate.

And such was his torment that Frodo withdrew into himself, becoming shrouded in a cloak of darkness in which he knew and felt nothing.

* * *

"Frodo's gone."

Aragorn, Sirius, Legolas, and Arthur Weasley looked up and saw Merry standing in the doorway, struggling to remain calm.

"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked, panic rising slowly in his chest.

"Gone, Strider, _gone_! I mean he opened his window and left!" Merry's panic was surfacing now too.

Sirius glanced out of the window over the stove. Rain pelted the glass and the wind was rising to a gale. "We'd better find him then, and fast," he said, rising.

Aragorn rose as well. "Yes. We'll have to move quickly. Even without the storm, in his state—" he trailed off as he donned his cloak and headed to the front door, followed by the others. Gimli met them in the hall.

"What's happening?" he demanded gruffly. "You don't intend to go out in _that_, do you laddie?" He directed the last at Aragorn.

Aragorn nodded, shoving his feet into his boots. "Frodo's run off."

Gimli's eyes widened. "Frodo's gone? Half a minute, Aragorn, I'll be joining you."

Aragorn turned to Merry. "Come if you wish, but I fear you will only hinder us, and I'd advise you to stay here."

Merry nodded. "We'll wait for him in case he…in case he comes back."

"Are you coming, Arthur?"

"Yes," he said. "You'll need all the help you can get, I'm afraid."

They trudged out into the storm, heads bowed against the wind and rain. Lighting crackled overhead, followed by a resounding crash of thunder. Cloaks pulled tightly around them, the group split and meandered in opposite directions, shouting for Frodo above the storm.

* * *

Sirius wiped water from his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He squinted through the rain, which seemed to slant in the direction of his eyes, no thanks to the wind, every way he turned. His wand light was pathetic in the gloom, and didn't do anything for him. His senses were drowned in a never ending sea of wet misery. He walked another block and then stopped suddenly. He blinked and grinned.

"Bugger this," he said, and transformed into the great, black dog.

His vision didn't improve, but his hearing and his sense of smell did. As a bonus, the thick coat turned out to be water resistant. He was warm _and_ not permanently drenched. He'd gotten a good deal when he became an Animagus.

He put his snout in the air and sniffed. He inhaled an ocean of water and sneezed. He couldn't smell anything, anyway. He relied then on his ears, and as he trotted along he kept them alert for the slightest of sounds.

He heard it, finally, an almost mute cry, and when he moved towards it he found himself blocked by a cast iron fence. The sound had definitely come from behind it, which didn't do much for his situation, as it was too high to jump. He growled and trotted around it until he found the gate. Locked.

Exasperated, Sirius transformed back and unlocked in with his wand, pushed open the gate and became the dog again. Much more comfortable. He stood still, listening.

Again, there was the silent cry. He broke into a run, stopping only when he reached the trench.

It had filled up with water almost to the brim, and the ground around it, barren of grass since the cave in, was slick with mud that ran like water into it. On the other side was Frodo, sitting with his knees pulled up and his arms wrapped around them tightly. He'd had enough sense to move back from the trench to avoid sliding in, and it was apparent that he'd tried to find some sort of shelter; he was crouched on one side of a fallen log, not that it helped any.

Sirius pushed past the tape and trotted quickly around to the other side. He had nearly reached the Hobbit when he slipped, falling into the muddy water.

It wasn't dangerous for him, the big dog that he was, but it was cold, and at first he struggled to catch his breath. He pushed against it and made it to the side Frodo was on, and with the aid of a protruding tree root pulled himself out of the water.

He stood there, dripping and frozen, staring at the Hobbit who was the cause of all this, and felt such a rush of pity that it almost knocked him over.

He hadn't seen _anything_ like it in his entire life.

Frodo looked like one who had carried the fate of the world on his shoulders and had failed to save it. He sat staring blankly ahead, rocking back and forth, a quiet, absent-minded whimper escaping his lips every few seconds. His eyes were red-rimmed pools of sorrow, and to look into them made it seem as if the world had ended. It wasn't a pathetic sight by far, it was a fierce sight. Here was sadness in its truest form, and that anyone, especially one so small, could bear it was astounding. There was passion lying within the Hobbit, there had always been, but this anguish, this _despair,_ brought it to life, and it sprang forth like a hungry beast, adding to the desolation and heightening it. It was terrifying to behold, because how could such emotion exist? How could it be born?

Sirius had, without noticing, become human again, and he shook his head and gathered Frodo up. He stood and carried him from the cemetery and into the streets. When they finally arrived back at Number Twelve everyone else had returned.

Frodo was dried and swaddled in blankets when Molly came in. She took one look at him and bustled into the kitchen, returning shortly with a mug of Pepperup Potion, which he spoon fed him until it was empty.

Frodo slept on the couch in the parlor, where a roaring fire was built. He was watched over all night, Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, and Sirius alternating shifts. He was closely monitored for signs of a fever, but Molly's potion had done its job, and remained more or less healthy.

* * *

Deunitnoc Eb Ot


	25. Not Truly Alive

Scars of the Future

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. You're the greatest!

* * *

Chapter 25: Not Truly Alive

Frodo managed to pull himself from his comatose-like state, and looking around blearily found Sirius sitting in a chair next to the couch.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked tiredly.

"Several hours. It's the middle of the night," Sirius responded with a slight shrug.

Frodo sighed and stared at the ceiling. He shivered, although he was swaddled in more than a few blankets and the fire burned strongly. His eyes stung from his weeping. Neither he nor Sirius said anything for quite some time.

Sirius thought a moment, then said, "I lost my best mate to Voldemort."

Frodo swallowed, apparently fighting back tears. "Who was it?"

"Harry's father…it wasn't long after that when they sent me to Azkaban."

Frodo seized this as an opportunity to change the subject. "Why?"

Sirius sighed. "For going after Pettigrew for turning them over to him. I convinced them to switch to him as their Secret Keeper last minute, and he went straight to Voldemort. I might as well have killed them myself." He frowned.

"Do you blame yourself?" Frodo croaked.

Sirius shook his head. "Not anymore, no. At least, not the way I used to. It's still there, but not as strong. The guilt is the worst part."

"Is it?" Frodo pleaded.

Sirius nodded. "It eats at you like a sickness. I turned it into rage, and it got me landed in Azkaban, where I had twelve years to wallow in that guilt….don't put yourself through that."

"I can't help it. I keep thinking about all the things I could have done. If I hadn't said something, or if I didn't say enough, if I had moved, or reacted more quickly…every time I do something different, and it ends with both of us alive."

"Every day I think that if I hadn't persuaded Lily and James to switch secret keepers everything would be different. But I manage."

"I wonder if it's worth going on."

"I've wondered that too."

Frodo sighed. "Does it ever stop?"

Sirius glanced up from his scrutinizing of the rug. He thought a moment. "It never really does. It fades after awhile, but it's always there…I get by knowing what I have to do and being there."

Frodo shook his head. "But my task is finished. I have nothing left to live for."

"There's an emptiness inside you, Frodo, and the only way for it to leave is to fill it with something else. I let rage consume me and sought only revenge, and now I hate that I was that way, but it kept me alive. When I escaped Azkaban, I had Harry, and by watching out for him I felt that I was doing James good. Sam has a family; maybe if you care for them it'll ease the pain."

"Perhaps," Frodo said tiredly, although he didn't believe it. He turned on his side, eyes dropping closed. "Goodnight, Sirius."

"Night," Sirius said, as Frodo drifted into a place where he felt no weight or pain, where he could cease to think or remember.

* * *

Frodo woke up again late the next morning. Merry and Pippin were talking softly near him. He blinked in the sunlight streaming in through the window.

"Morning, Frodo," Pippin said, grinning half-heartedly.

Merry did the same, adding, "Did you sleep well?"

Frodo rubbed his eyes. "Well enough," he said monotonously. He stood and, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders, left the sitting room and returned to his own. He dressed and went quietly to the kitchen.

Gandalf and Remus were the only two there, and they stopped talking and looked up when Frodo entered. They watched sadly as he sat in one of the chairs, wrapped in his cloak and nibbled on a corner of bread.

He had diminished greatly in the past two days. Gandalf had witnessed something similar in the Hobbit when he carried the Ring, but it hardly compared to this. The Ring brought a weakness of the mind and a strength to the body—if it so desired. What Frodo was experiencing drained the emotional spirit, the mind, and the body. Frodo's eyes were red and swollen, but beyond their exterior outlook they were dark, lost, and vacant of all expression.

After noting that Frodo wouldn't really eat anything, Gandalf said, "Frodo, if you still wish to speak to Voldemort, we must go now. By tonight, it will be too late."

Frodo sighed and stood up, pulling his cloak more tightly around his frame. Gandalf pulled a small stone from within the folds of his cloak. He and Frodo placed their hands on it, and a few moments later they stood just outside of Azkaban.

Gandalf led Frodo into the prison, and Frodo staggered slightly as a horrid stench overpowered him. As he followed Gandalf down the rows of cells, he sensed terrible fear from within them, and felt ill in the presence of the two dementor guards who served as their guides.

They stopped outside a very secure cell. Half a dozen dementors guarded it, and Frodo felt dizzy under their sightless stares.

"I will step aside. Call me when you have finished," Gandalf said.

Frodo nodded and moved forward. Not only did the cell have bars, but a strong magical barrier shrouded it as well. He looked into it, and Voldemort's red eyes glared up at him.

"Hello, Thomas," Frodo said quietly.

"I felt you would come, Frodo Baggins. No doubt you have come to kill me. I thank you for that. I would rather die than suffer the fate that has been set for me." He grinned wickedly.

"That is not why I have come. I have no desire to kill you," Frodo said, though his voice dripped in anger.

"So…you have not come for vengeance? I should think not, your pathetic servant was a fool!"

Frodo flinched slightly, the words striking an almost physical blow to him. "You are responsible for the death of one I love dearly."

Voldemort chuckled. "Yes…I have caused many deaths, and not one do I regret."

Frodo gazed at the fallen Dark Lord in pity. "I am sorry, Thomas," he said.

Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise and anger. "For what? You _abomination_!"

"I'm sorry it must come to this. We are not born evil, and we are not born to hate. Fate was cruel to you, and from that cruelty you learned these things. I do not hate you Thomas, despite all you have done. I never hated you, not even when I carried the Ring."

"You speak as one who has known greater evils than I."

Frodo considered his words a moment. "There is no greater evil," he said. "Nor can evil be lesser. It is merely evil—one being which takes on various forms. While evil can be thwarted, it cannot be destroyed. When one state falls, evil rises in another. I have faced you before, Thomas, when you went by another name. Even then you craved power, but I pulled you down, and now I stand before you once more, and you have succeeded in taking more away from me than you previously have. But I have not come for vengeance; I have come to forgive you. You will not hear that from anyone else, and I offer it to you freely. You will be gone soon, far beyond the reach of anyone."

"Gone?" Voldemort cackled. There was an insane desperation in his voice. "I cannot be defeated! Have you not heard how I rose again?"

"Did you really believe it would go on forever, Tom?" Frodo said. "Without your soul, you will be nothing, and no servant of yours can restore it. Namarië,7 Tom, for the second time, and may fate serve you more kindly in another time and place."

Gandalf returned then, and the dementors led them out. As they reached the gate, Gandalf and Frodo heard a short scream that was quickly cut off, and then nothing. Frodo turned a final time, and a tear fell down his cheek.

* * *

There was celebrating at Number Twelve that night. Finally, Voldemort had fallen, and the world could relax. That same day, Peter Pettigrew had testified before the Ministry of Magic, therefore clearing Sirius's name. Tonks had returned from St. Mungos, for the hospital staff had no trouble bringing her to health. She still walked on the road to recovery, and it would take time before she could eat normally again, but she _was_ getting her strength back, and all were the better for it.

Fred and George celebrated by setting off several of their own fireworks and dishing out fake wands and other tricks. And instead of the usual reprimanding for it, there was laughter.

But the partying was subdued. The conversations were purposefully kept light, the decorations were black. They stood victorious, but not without a great loss.

Throughout the merriment Frodo sat in a dark corner away from everyone. He watched with longing, wanting to join in but unable to—his pain was too great. He noticed that everyone—particularly those who had known Sam best, didn't have completely genuine smiles. Somehow, this comforted him, but in other ways it made him long even more for the presence, the _life_ of Sam.

Aragorn found him, and he came and sat beside the Hobbit. His company soothed Frodo somewhat.

"I wish I could enjoy this," he said.

Aragorn placed a hand on the Hobbit's shoulder. "You're mourning, Frodo. I won't lie to you, it will take some time before you can truly find happiness again. We're all feeling it, you strongest of all, but I do as well. You know how dear you and Sam are to me. It—it's hardly bearable the pain is so intense."

Frodo nodded. "Sam was born the year my parents died," he said softly. "It's almost as if the Valar sent him to me…he was like my brother, Aragorn, a friend of friends. And now…now he's gone…"

Frodo retired to his room before anyone else left. He didn't expect to sleep, and after a long while of tossing and turning he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the opposite wall. He didn't notice when Merry came in quite some time later.

Merry stood there for awhile, watching his cousin. It pained him to see the once jubilant Hobbit in such a fallen state. Frodo hadn't been jubilant for years, but he'd lived relatively happy for a long while. Now, though, he appeared old and tired, weighted down by grief.

He was hurting, and he probably felt Sam's death more than any of them, but Sam was already sorely missed. Merry and Pippin both hadn't slept well since, and the eyes of each Fellowship member were red-rimmed. Merry mourned for Sam, but he wouldn't let Frodo sink into a depression over it—too many times had Frodo already crossed that threshold.

Merry cleared his throat. "You can't keep going on like this, Frodo."

Frodo looked up, slightly startled. "Like what?"

"In this…_state_ you're in. You walk around like the living dead, as if you see nothing and hear nothing. You can't go on trying _not_ to live."

Frodo turned his back on his cousin and strode to the window. He rested his forehead against the cool glass, gazing out. He felt the tears coming on again, the last thing he wanted. He gripped the window sill as he began to shake with barely contained emotion. He knew what his cousin was trying to do, but he wasn't ready yet—he couldn't face it.

"I can't do this, Merry," he choked.

"You can try," Merry said, his voice also wet with tears, but firm. "You can at least give Sam that much for his death."

"His death was in _vain_, Merry!" Frodo cried, overcome again by sobs.

"How can you say that?" Merry hissed. "How can you possibly say such a thing? You're here, aren't you? You're alive and…and you're still with us." His voice softened slightly at the last.

Frodo was shaking his head. He turned around. "_I_ was supposed to die, Merry, not Sam! He has a family back home, a wife and thirteen children. _Thirteen! _What will they say when I return without him? What am I to tell them, that Sam died so that I could live? That he died because of _me_?" He took a trembling breath. "But he failed…he _failed…"_

"Frodo?"

Frodo glanced away. "I'm not alive, Merry, not really."

"Frodo, what are you talking about?"

"I draw breath, but I can't breathe. My pulse beats, but my veins carry no blood. I talk, I don't speak. I hear, but I don't listen. _Look_ at me, Merry!" Merry lifted his eyes, meeting Frodo's. "I'm white as death and cold as the grave. Cut me open and I won't bleed, set fire to me and I won't burn."

He placed Merry's hand on his cheek. "What is this? This happened twenty-five years ago when I carried the Ring to Mount Doom! It's been growing steadily worse over the years. I've been fading more each day." He paused. "I should've left. I should have gone with Bilbo…Sam would still be alive, and I wouldn't be feeling as if a sword has been thrust through my heart."

Frodo took a breath. "Do you know what It did to me? I can't eat as I once did, you know that, and sleep rarely comes undisturbed. It's grown better over the years, but, oh Merry, you know how ill I become! Aragorn is the only one who can ease my suffering, and when he couldn't be there Sam took it away just as well. Both of them are like brothers to me, and now it feels as if my soul has been completely ripped away."

Merry's' voiced dripped in sorrow as tears cascaded down his face. "But, Frodo, it's not—"

Frodo's eyes flashed and he raised his voice slightly. Slowly, deliberately, he said, "When the Ring went into the fire, it took a part of my soul with it. It had taken such control over me that its destruction wrenched a part of me away with It! I'd have jumped in after It had it not been for Sam! I wasn't strong enough, Merry, I didn't have the strength."

Merry saw him glance quickly at Sting. "But now…" Frodo said, staring at the blade as if in a trance. "Now I can go…now I can be free…" He walked towards it, and Merry grabbed his arm and shook him.

"Stop this, Frodo! You cannot throw your life away! Sam _died_ for your sake, is this how you would repay him? What purpose would there then be in his death?"

"What purpose is there in my _life_?" Frodo growled, tearing away from Merry's grasp.

Merry glared at him. "If you take your own life, what will become of Rosie and the children? Sam named you their guardian should anything happen to him. Sam is _gone_ Frodo. You're not the only one suffering, it's tearing at all of our heartstrings, but you can't drown in it. You have to stop this."

Frodo turned away and said nothing. Angrily, Merry stormed from the room.

* * *

TBC 


	26. Master Baggins's Departures

Scars of the Future 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. You're the greatest!

* * *

Chapter 26: Master Baggins's Departures

Frodo carefully folded his _Mithril_ vest and placed it in his pack. His eyes wandered slowly around the room, looking for anything he'd forgotten, and seeing none he tied the bag closed. After ensuring that the star-glass and pendant were both with him, he set his things by the bedroom door. He then turned and glanced out of the window at the bright afternoon sky, but his eye snagged on something else. A soft gasp escaped his lips and he stepped quickly to the window.

The flower box, once completely barren of anything, overflowed with an abundance of flowers, from snapdragons to marigolds to chrysanthemums. They exploded in color—reds and whites, yellows and oranges, all straight and fresh with no wilt on them.

Astounded, Frodo opened the window and tentatively reached a hand toward them, wanting to touch but fearing they would become an illusion and disappear. But his flesh brushed soft petals, and after caressing the flora he bent and inhaled. The aroma was strong and pleasant—fresh and smelling of new life. He sighed, caught up in contentedness for the first time in several days. He smiled.

Sam had left with such abruptness that Frodo had leapt from disbelief to rage to depression in a matter of minutes. He'd felt tricked, almost, as if Sam had just decided on impulse to leave, without any conclusion or farewell, without a true goodbye. The voice Frodo had heard in his head in those last few moments may have been Sam, but more likely it had been himself, realizing subconsciously what was about to transpire and attempting therefore to ease the pain. To make excuses.

Whatever the truth, Sam's life hadn't ended properly—it had been sudden, without preparation. If Frodo had been able to prepare, he assumed, he could have let go more easily. Instead, he was left with words he should have said but never did. Had he had that, his heart wouldn't be so heavy with remorse.

But this…these flowers, they _were_ that conclusion, those unspoken words. Here was Sam's parting gift—his final sign that his soul was at peace and that he was happy. It symbolized hope to Frodo, a reason to go on. A light had gone out, but it would be relit. Other doors always opened when one closed. Frodo need no longer plead to the Valar for time to be turned back—because Sam was all right, this was _proof_, and if Sam was, Frodo felt that he could go on, too.

Frodo rested a moment on the window seat, allowing a calm to settle within him. The Fellowship would be departing that evening, and while he knew he should be dreading his final farewells, he wasn't. Since the death of his parents, Frodo hadn't said goodbye to anyone if he could help it, preferring to slip off unnoticed, but somehow he felt these would be unavoidable.

There was a soft knock on his door and Frodo looked up. Harry stood in the doorway and walked in. "Hey," he said.

"Hello, Harry." Frodo smiled warmly.

Harry glanced around the room, not meeting Frodo's eyes. "So," he said. "Er…how are you?"

"Better," said Frodo. "I'm feeling much better, thank you. And yourself?"

Harry nodded. "Can't complain, I guess."

Silence fell between them for a moment, and Frodo could sense that Harry felt uncomfortable. "Harry?" he asked. "Is there something you wanted?"

Harry glanced up. "Well, yeah, actually. I really just wanted to thank you, you know, for everything you've done this summer. And I wanted to say I'm sorry about…about what happened." He said it all rather quickly.

Frodo offered a small smile. "It's all right," he said. "You needn't thank me, and you had no control over…over Sam's death." He looked down, blinking furiously. Though the pain had eased somewhat that morning, it was still there.

"Pippin says you're leaving tonight."

Frodo nodded. "Yes. We've done all we needed to here." He looked up again. "It's been a pleasure knowing you for even this short time, Harry."

"Yeah," said Harry, nodding, "you too."

They looked at each other a moment longer until Frodo stood up. "Have you seen Sirius? I need to speak with him."

"No, but he's probably around here somewhere. Try outside; he's been spending a lot of time out now that his name's cleared." Harry grinned.

"Thank you," said Frodo as he left the room and made for the front door.

Sirius was indeed on the porch, listening to Remus read aloud from the _Daily Prophet_. Frodo came and sat with them.

"Morning, Frodo!" Sirius said with a grin. "It's good to see you out and about."

Frodo smiled back. "It's nice to _be_ out."

Sirius laughed. "You're telling me," he said.

"I suppose you know we're leaving tonight," said Frodo quietly.

Sirius's smile vanished. "Yeah, I heard that."

"Do you know when, exactly, Frodo?" Remus asked, folding the _Prophet_ and setting it on the step beside him.

Frodo shrugged. "Just tonight, I suppose not long after dinner."

"It's a shame you couldn't have stayed longer. You could have gone to see Diagon Alley, or Hogwarts even. But I suppose now you're ready to return," Remus said.

Frodo didn't say anything. Remus and Sirius exchanged glances.

"You don't want to go home?" Sirius asked.

Frodo shrugged again. "It's complicated. A large part of me longs to see home again, but an even larger part isn't ready to face home. There will be so many questions regarding Sam…and Rosie…I can't imagine telling her what happened…" He paused a moment. "But in truth I meant to leave years ago, you know, and since my heart hasn't truly been in the Shire. I want to sail West, but I now have to look after Sam's family, and I fear that Tol Eressea will prolong my life further."

"Do you want to die, Frodo?" Remus questioned.

"I'm simply tired, Remus. I hardly look a day over fifty when I should look at least twenty years older than that. But the combined effects of the Ring and this time-travel business seem to have, according to Gandalf, made my life even longer. And still I have this tearing pain inside me from ancient wounds, and a gnawing guilt that's been with me for years. It's a terrible burden to live with, and I've already bourn it long enough. The Lonely Isle was meant to give me peace before passing on, but now it shall be several more years before I can take that route."

The wizards frowned. "It doesn't seem fair," said Remus, but Sirius added, "Not that life's ever been fair."

Frodo nodded. "I know. Which is why I have to merely bear it."

* * *

They departed that evening after dinner and the sun had set. No sleeping draughts were needed, for Albus and Gandalf together had managed to create a portkey back to Minas Tirith. The Fellowship gathered as one around it, placing fingers or elbows or whatever could reach upon it, and then, suddenly, they were gone.

Arwen greeted them jubilantly when they arrived. She moved immediately to Aragorn and threw herself in his arms, where they shared a long, tender kiss. Frodo smiled at this, but couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness. Here was Aragorn, a husband returning to his wife from war, a wonderful sight, but Frodo couldn't help but think about another husband who would _not_ be returning.

They feasted well that night, and after the meal there was singing and dancing. Frodo managed to slip out into the garden, where he sat on a bench and gazed at the stars, not thinking, merely sitting and absorbing a strange feeling of safety and comfort.

A week later Frodo, Gandalf, Merry, and Pippin left the city with Sam's body. They did not rush the journey home, stopping when they felt tired or hungry. They stayed in Rohan for a brief spell, and again in Rivendell and in Bree.

Gandalf left them at the Brandywine Bridge, and after visiting Brandy Hall and the Great Smial, Merry and Pippin accompanied Frodo to Bag End.

They were greeted by the youngest children when they arrived, and Frodo beckoned for Merry and Pippin to stay behind at the gate. He walked alone up to the door, and when he arrived Elanor stood there. She looked at him and froze, eyes widening and a hand going to her mouth.

"Ellie," Frodo said, swallowing the lump in his throat, "I need to speak with your mother."

She nodded shakily as Rosie came out from the kitchen. She stopped when she saw the two of them. Frodo stepped towards her.

"No…oh, please, no…"

Frodo didn't have to tell her anything, she knew from his expression. She broke down immediately, falling forward into his arms. He held her, stroking her hair and whispering condolences to her, even while he was struggling to remain strong.

The funeral was held three days later, and Frodo stood with Rosie and the children throughout and after it. It was a beautiful service, and it seemed that at least half the Shire had arrived. They all offered words of comfort, or happy memories, although there were those who, while they said nothing of it, eyes Frodo with scorn or distaste.

And so Frodo took his place as head of Bag End once more. Merry and Pippin stayed with their families in Bag End for a week, helping to organize affairs and keep things running while the family grieved.

It was quite some time before things at Bag End started to run somewhat normally again. Frodo managed it somehow, although how he went on sometimes he didn't know. On the dates of his anniversaries, when he was ill, Merry or Pippin would come and stay with him to ease him through his suffering.

There was a day about three years later when Gandalf came, announcing that he was returning to the future for nothing other than a visit. Frodo declined from joining him, but wrote letters for Gandalf to give to Harry and Sirius. Merry and Pippin remained as well.

When Gandalf returned to the Shire he brought back letters for Frodo. Apparently, things had calmed completely, and Harry now lived in a new house with Sirius, who had ordered Number Twelve to be destroyed. All that remained there was an empty lot, which Sirius had sold to a couple Muggles who planned to build a Bed and Breakfast on it.

The years passed uneventfully for the occupants of Bag End, which was all well with Frodo. There were days when the atmosphere of the hole was cheerful, and then others when it was more solemn than anything.

It was on an autumn night when young Ruby (the third-youngest Gamgee) was nearly of age that Rosie found Frodo sitting in his study, gazing absently out the window to the West. She looked at him sadly. She knew he'd long ago felt the sea-longing. She remembered the day he almost left for it, and recalled her joy that he'd remained.

For the past years since his return from the future, something she still didn't quite understand, Frodo had struggled greatly with controlling his grief and trying to care for his new "family." And while the children had an incredible affect on him—they seemed to increase not only his joy but his health as well—now that they were all older it seemed that his illness, one caused long ago by the Ring, was finally catching up to him.

He became unwell quite easily, and seemed constantly in pain. It had grown steadily worse over the years since Sam's death, and Rosie knew that a large part of the reason was Sam's absence. She'd asked Gandalf once, when he'd visited, why Sam could ease Frodo's suffering so well, and Gandalf could only assume that it was because Sam was, indeed, a sort of tourniquet for Frodo. That because Sam had been Frodo's only true company during the last stretch of the Quest, he had left an imprint on Frodo of love and strength, and that Frodo had ever sense drawn from it.

Now, to Rosie, it was obvious that he was suffering both physically and emotionally. It was nearing the sixth of October, and he was withdrawn, as usual, but already under the shadow of a cold. She observed his white hair and frail body a moment longer, realizing that finally time was beginning to catch up with him. She wondered sadly how much longer had had left.

Stepping to the armchair he sat in, she rested a hand on his shoulder. He tilted his head up at her, and his blue eyes were exhausted and red-rimmed.

"Mr. Frodo, dear, perhaps it'd be best if you went to sleep now. You're awful tired and not too well." Rosie had long ago dropped the "mister" from his name, but she used it occasionally anyway, because it was something Sam had done and it comforted them both to hear it.

He nodded slowly, and she realized he must have been worse than she anticipated, for him to agree without protest. He stood on shaky legs and, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, began treading his way to his bedroom. Rosie looked after him a moment, then went to the kitchen to make him some tea. It was a special kind, one Aragorn had taught Sam to make, and that used athelas leaves and had a remarkable effect on Frodo. Rosie had to cut some of the plant from the garden, and as she stood she surveyed it, shaking her head.

Frodo had agonized for days over what to do with the plot. He first considered hiring a new gardener, and then decided he could never bear it—the garden had been Sam's since he was a lad, and Frodo couldn't remember a time there wasn't Sam or the Gaffer working in it. He'd considered leaving it to grow wild, but knew Sam wouldn't approve of that, either. Finally, he had realized he'd have to care for it himself, though he knew nothing of gardening. He spent hours reading on the subject and talking to Rosie's father, and by the time Frodo thought he knew what to do, the garden hadn't been touched for a month. (He'd hired one of the Cotton boys to care for it while they were gone, traipsing around in the very distant future.)

And while the garden should have been untamed and weedy, it was perfectly clipped and tame. Frodo had recalled the flowers in the window box at Number Twelve, and had decided to leave the garden alone. Sam, it appeared, would continue his work.

He had, too, and even now the garden flourished. Rosie returned to the kitchen, and with the tea made she went to Frodo's room, knocking silently on the door.

"You can come in," he said softly.

She pushed the door open and found him propped up in bed, an unopened book in his lap.

"I brought you tea," she said. "Your special kind."

He smiled. "Thank you, Rosie, dear." He took the cup and drank from it, feeling it warm him on its way down.

Rosie sat down on the edge of the bed. "Is Mr. Merry coming up soon?" she asked him.

"No, Pippin is. Merry was unable to get away. He should be here the day after tomorrow, just before the sixth." A shadow passed briefly across his face.

"I'm glad. They understand better what to do than me, and—"

"Rose, you'd do fine. I just hate to have to worrying over me with the children, I know they keep you rather—" he was interrupted by a coughing fit, but it ended shortly and he drank again from the tea.

Rosie's heart went out to him and she wiped his brow with her handkerchief, noticing that it had become a bit warm. She sighed.

"I've only the three left now," she said. "And they're all nearly of age, old enough to care for themselves if I can't be spared." She meant more than she said, but Frodo could see it in her eyes.

"Oh, no, love, I couldn't leave, not until I've seen you off. It's how Sam would want it," Frodo whispered.

"But, Frodo, you've been hurtin' bad, and you're sick so much, and I can tell you're miserable. I see you gazin' off West, and I know you want to go. I'll be all right by myself now, you don't need to stay." As much as it would grieve her to see Frodo leave, she knew with a motherly instinct that he needed it.

But Frodo shook his head. "No, a few more years here is all I have, and it's all I need to see you pass into the next realm. Once you've gone, I can go, too. But only then, no sooner."

Something in his tone stopped any further argument from her, and she sighed. Seeing that his tea was finished, she took the glass and kissed his brow. He'd become what he'd been to Sam, a sort of brother and father to her, and while Frodo felt that it was his duty to look after her, she felt it was her duty to look after him. Though not related by blood, they were family, and they loved each other dearly for it. Brother and sister, father and daughter, mother and son, they shared a deep bond.

* * *

Rosie passed on in 1482. Frodo had sat beside her with the midwife a day and night before she finally left them. She'd been old, and had lived a fruitful life, so her death, while sad, was not terrible. She's been ready, and had told Frodo, just before leaving, that once she was gone he must go West.

So Frodo passed Bad End's deed on to Frodo, Sam's son, and handed everything over to him. He then rode with Gandalf to the Tower Hills, where he visited Elanor for the last time and gave her the Red Book. Frodo had fought with himself for some time, and finally decided he would give her a proper goodbye. Their farewell was a sad one, for he loved her as if she had been his own daughter, and she loved him as deeply as she had loved her father.

The havens were just as Frodo had remembered them—elegant, beautiful. The boat waited in the water before them, eager to return home and yet patient as Frodo turned at looked back towards the Shire.

"It's been so long, Gandalf, that I've lived here, and it seems I managed to live a true life after all, with a family, just as I'd wanted."

The wizard nodded. "And knowing what that feels like, Frodo, do you feel complete?"

"Nearly. I shall spend very little time in Tol Eressea, Gandalf, time enough to heal, to be whole and without pain, and then I will pass on. Sam waits, and I long to see him, and to thank him."

"And what, my dearest Hobbit, must you thank him for?"

"For my life, and for his parting gift. He gave me his family, Gandalf, and while I never forgot that Sam was missing, he allowed me to experience that, to know what I could have had if the Ring had never come to me. To know that love, that warmth. And I wish I could repay him."

"I believe that you have, by caring for them, loving and protecting his wife and children. All the proof you need is in your garden," Gandalf explained.

"It's a strange fate, that we all have, Gandalf. Sam came because of my parents' passing, I'm sure of that now, and it's almost as if Sam died so that I could experience some of his own joy."

"I'm sure," said Gandalf, "that on some level Sam knew this, some subconscious state, and it enabled him to let go of his life. For you Frodo, because of his love."

They boarded the silver ship, and as the sun set Frodo could find nothing to regret, for possibly the first time in his long life.

* * *

The End

I want to say thanks once more (with feeling!) to all those who've read and reviewed, and to those who've read and not reviewed as well. All of your feedback has been greatly appreciated, and thanks also for putting up with my lengthy time between posts. :-)


	27. Epilogue

Scars of the Future 

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, both Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Theywere created by the amazing minds of J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien.

A/N: This fic was not created by myself alone. It was done inscript format over Instant Messenger by myself and Animagus-Spirit. This fic and most of the events in it are her brilliant ideas, I have just taken the task to write it. Therefore, this fic is dedicated to her. You're the greatest!

* * *

Epilogue

Merry urged his pony to move faster, but the poor beast was already galloping as fast as he could go. Ahead, Merry could see the sea spreading out beyond the trees, as great stone buildings rose up out of the earth.

Pippin was sitting on one of the docks when he arrived, gazing sadly out to the horizon. Merry followed his gaze and could see, just barely, a white speck moving against the black sky. He watched a moment, until it was gone completely.

Merry sighed. "Did you make it in time, Pippin?"

The other Hobbit shook his head. "No. When I arrived they were too far out to be able to tell faces, but I could see them. Frodo and Gandalf, looking back."

"Did they see you?"

Pippin nodded. "Yes, and Frodo held up the star-glass, and I've just watched him go."

Merry sat down beside his cousin. "We made it last time, but we were too late for this one."

"Gandalf didn't tell us. Oh, _why_ didn't he tell us?"

Merry shook his head. "I don't know. I guess we got our chance last time. It's going to be so different with him gone."

"I know, Merry, but he's all right. He's wanted this for so long. Remember the beginning of this month, when he had us both come the sixth?"

"Yes, of course."

"He said goodbye to us then. You know he's never given proper farewells, and that was his way of leaving us. He needed us both, and it was his way of letting us know his love for us without it sounding like a farewell, you see?" Pippin looked up at Merry.

"You're right, Pippin, and we should have noticed it. But that was the worst anniversary he's ever had. It seemed like the wound knew it was its last shot and had to cause as much suffering as it could. It was almost like it was when he was first stabbed."

"But no more of that, Merry. He's going to rest now, and once he feels he's ready, he'll die, just as he wants to, and then—"

"And then he'll have Sam, and he won't need anything else. Oh, Pippin, it was hard for him to leave the first time, that's why he didn't go! He might have felt some pull, some need to stay because of a vision, but mostly he didn't want to leave. He's just too stubborn to admit it, you know how he is. He couldn't pull himself away from the Shire, from you or me, and mostly, he couldn't leave Sam. But that's the reason he didn't tell us this time, why he sent a letter! Because he _could_ leave now, because Sam isn't here, he's gone. And Frodo knows that only in Tol Eressea can he find peace and move on when he likes. He didn't tell us because he'd struggle with leaving when he saw our faces, you know that, and now—oh, Pippin, now he has nothing to fear or regret, nothing to hold him back. Can you imagine what that's like?"

Tears were in both of their eyes. "Come on," said Pippin. "You're right, he's gone, and he doesn't need us sitting here talking about it. What do you say, Merry, lets go, and once we're across the river, let's get a couple of ales before going home. To celebrate. Frodo wants it."

Merry laughed. "Frodo? Wanting a couple of lookers like us toasting his leaving? I doubt that, Pippin. But let's get those ales anyway. Come on, a pint and a half for both of us!"

The cousins embraced, and mounted their ponies to ride home. When they finally returned to their separate houses two days later, they had nothing on their shoulders, nothing on their hearts but joy, and nothing in their minds but peace.


End file.
